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BR  145  .A2  1872a 
Abbott,  John  S.  C.  1805- 

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The  history  of  Christianity 


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THE 


JAN   8   1915 


M  OF  CHRISTilTY: 


CONSISTING    OF    THE 


LIFE  AND  TEACHINGS  OF  JESDS  OF  NAZARETH ; 


ADVENTURES   OF   PAUL   AND   THE   APOSTLES; 


The  Most  Interesting  Events  in  the  Progress  of  Christianity, 


FROM    THE    EARLIEST    PERIOD    TO    THE    PRESENT    TIME. 


JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOTT,  D.  D. 

AUTHOR    OF    "the    MOTHER    AT    HOME,"    "LIFE    OF     NAPOLEON,"    "LIFE 
OF    FREDERIC    THE    GREAT,"     ETC.,    ETC. 


WITH    ADDITIONS    BY 

^JV.  F.  MALLALIEU,   D.   D. 


CLEVELAND,  OHIO: 
THE  AMERICAN  PUBLISHING  CO. 


^  f  American  Pub.  Co. 

Copyright.  I  g^^^^^  Stinson  &  Co. 


'i^SfS&J'^^^  -- 


/■^//L.    ^/^^^y 


List  of  Full  Page  Illustrations, 


-♦♦> 


STEEL  PLATES. 
PORTRAIT  OF  THE  AUTHOR,      -----       Frontispiece 

PAGE. 
LIKENESS    OF    JESUS,       --------  25 

THE    LAST    SUPPER,  -.--_.--  113 

VISION  OF  THE  CROSS,   (Constantiiie)  -        .        -        .  305 

REFORMERS    OF    THE    SIXTEENTH    CENTURY,  -  -  J  -  433 

EMINENT    CLERGY    OF    THE    EIGHTEENTH    CENTUKT,  -  -  475 


COPPER  PLATE  ENGRAVINGS. 

MAP    OF    PALESTINE,               ------.-  33 

PRATER    IN    THE    GARDEN,                      ----.-  123 

MAP    OF    TRAVELS    OF    ST.    PAUL,           ---.--  171 

martyr's    FAITH,                --------  249 

SYMPUOROSE    AND    HER    SONS,                ----.»  253 

PERPETUA    IN    THE    ARENA,      ------  269 

ARCH    OF    TRIUMPH,                .--.-..              i  307 

THE   MURDERERS    RUSHING    UP   THE    SIAIBS,               •           •  453 


PREFACE. 


THE  author  of  this  volume  has  for  manj  vcars,  at  inters 
vals,  been  engaged  in  its  preparation.  It  has  long 
seemed  to  him  very  desirable  that  a  brief,  comprehensive,  and 
readable  narrative  of  the  origin  of  Christianity,  and  of  its 
struggles  and  triumphs,  should  be  prepared,  adapted  to  the 
masses  of  the  people.  There  are  many  ecclesiastical  histories 
written  by  men  of  genius  and  erudition.  They  are,  however, 
read  by  few,  excepting  professional  theologians.  The  writer 
is  not  aware  that  there  is  any  popular  history  of  the  extraor- 
dinary events  involved  in  the  progress  of  Christianity  which 
can  lure  the  attention  of  men,  even  of  Christians,  whose  minds 
are  engrossed  by  the  agitations  of  busy  life. 

And  yet  there  is  no  theme  more  full  of  sublime,  exciting, 
and  instructive  interest.  All  the  heroism  which  the  annals 
of  chivalry  record  pale  into  insignificance  in  presence  of  the 
heroism  with  which  the  battles  of  the  cross  have  been  fought, 
and  with  which  Christians,  in  devotion  to  the  interests  of 
humanity,  have  met,  undaunted,  the  most  terrible  doom. 

The  task  is  so  difficult  wisely  to  select  and  to  compress 
within  a  few  hundred  pages  the  momentous  events  connected 
with  Christianity  during  nearly  nineteen  centuries,  that  mere 
than  once  the  writer  has  been  tempted  to  lay  aside  his  pen  in 


8  PREFACE. 

despair.  Should  this  book  fail  to  accomplish  the  purpose 
which  he  prayerfully  seeks  to  attain,  he  hopes  that  some  one 
else  may  be  incited  to  make  the  attempt  who  will  be  more 
•uccessful. 

In  writing  the  life  of  Jesus,  the  author  has  accepted  the 
aarratives  of  the  evangelists  as  authentic  and  reliable,  and 
haa  endeavored  to  give  a  faithful,  and,  so  far  as  possible,  a 
chronological  account  of  what  Jesus  said  and  did,  as  he  would 
write  of  any  other  distinguished  personage.  The  same  prin- 
ciple has  guided  him  in  tracing  out  the  career  of  Paul  and  th© 
apostles. 

It  has  not  been  the  object  of  the  writer  to  urge  any  new  views, 
or  to  discuss  controverted  questions  of  church  polity  or  the- 
ology. This  is  a  history  of  facts,  not  a  philosophical  or  theo- 
logical discussion  of  the  principles  which  these  facts  may 
involve.  No  one,  however,  can  read  this  narrative  without  the 
conviction  that  the  religion  of  Jesus,  notwithstanding  the 
occasional  perversions  of  human  depravity  or  credulity,  has  re- 
mained essentially  one  and  the  same  during  all  the  centuries. 
We  need  no  additional  revelation.  The  gospel  of  Christ  is 
"  the  power  of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God."  In  its  propaga- 
tion lies  the  only  hope  of  the  world.  Its  universal  acceptance 
will  usher  in  such  a  day  of  glory  as  this  world  haa  never 
witnessed  since  the  flowers  of  Eden  wilted. 

JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOTT 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE  BIRTH,  CHILDHOOD,  AND  EARLY  MINISTRY,  OF  JESUS. 

The  Roman  Empire.  —  Moral  Influence  of  Jesus.  —  John.  —  The  Annuncia- 
tion.—The  Birth  of  Jesus.  — Visit  of  the  Magi.  — AYrath  of  Herod.— 
Fliglit  to  Egypt.  —  Return  to  Nazareth. — Jesus  in  the  Temple.  —  John  the 
Baptist.  —  The  Temptation.  —  The  First  Disciples.  —  The  First  Miracle.  — 
Visit  to  Jerusalem.  —  Nicodemus.  —  The  Woman  of  Samaria.  —  Healing 
of  tlie  Nobleman's  Son.  —  Visit  to  Capernaum.  —  Peter  and  Andrew 
called.  —  J ames  and  John  called.  —  The  Demoniac  healed.  —  Tour  through 
Galilee li 

CHAPTER    II. 

TOUB  THROUGH  GALILEE. 

The  Horns  of  Hattin.  —  Tlie  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  —  Jesus  goes  to  Caperna- 
um.—  The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes.  —  Healing  the  Leper;  the  Par- 
alytic.—  Associates  witli  Publicans  and  Sinners.  —  Tlie  Feast  of  the  Pass- 
over.—  The  Cripple  at  the  Pool.  —  Tlie  Equality  of  the  Son  with  the 
Father. —  Healing  the  Withered  Hand.  —  Anger  of  the  Pharisees.  —  The 
Twelve  Apostles  chosen.  —  Inquiry  of  John  the  Baptise.  —  Jesus  dines 
witli  a  Pharisee.  —  The  Anointment.  —Journey  through  Galilee.  —  Stilling 
the  Tempest.  —  The  Demoniacs  and  the  Swine.  —  The  Daughter  of  Jairus. 

—  Restores  Sight  to  the  Blind. — Address  to  his  Disciples     .        .        ,        ,      U 

CHAPTER   III. 

THE  TEACHINGS  OF  JESUS,  AND  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING. 

Infamy  of  Herod.  —  Jesus  in  the  Desert.  —  Feeds  the  Five  Thousand. — 
VTalks  on  the  Sea. — Preaches  to  the  People.  —  Visits  Tyre  and  Sidon. — 
The  Syro-Phoenician  Woman.  —  Cures  all  Manner  of  Diseases. —  Feeds 
the  Four  Thousand.  —  Restores  Sight  to  a  Blind  Man.  —  Conversation  with 
Peter.  —  The  Transfiguration.  —  Cure  of  the  Lunatic.  —  Dispute  of  the 
Apostles.  —  Law  of  Forgiveness.  —  Visits  Jerusalem.  —  Plot  to  seize 
Jesus.  —  The  Adulteress.  —  Jesus  the  Son  of  God.  —  The  Blind  Man. — 
Parabls  of  the  Good  Shepherd.  —  Raising  of  Lazarus T\ 

CHAPTER   IV. 

LAST  LABORS,   AND  FAREWELL  TO  HIS   DISCIPLES, 

Journey  to  Jerusalem.  —  Mission  of  the  Seventy. — Jesus  teaches  his  Dis- 
ciples to  pray.  —  Lament  over  Jerusalem.  —  Return  to  Galilee.  —  The 
Second  Coming  of  Clirist.  —  Dangers  of  the  Rich.  —  Promise  to  his  Dis- 
ciples.—  Foretells  his  Death.-  Zacchaius.  —  Mary  anoints  Jesus.  —  En- 
ters Jerusalem.  —  Drives  the  Traffickers  from  the  Temple.  —  The  Phari- 
sees try  to  entrap  him.  —  The  Destruction  of  Jerusalem,  and  the  Second 
Coming.  —  Judas  agrees  to  betray  Jesus. — The  Last  Supper.  —  The 
Prayer  of  Jesus M 

CHAPTER    V. 

ARREST,  TRIAL,  AND   CRUCIFIXION. 

Anguish  of  Jesus.- His  Prayers  in  the  Garden.  —  Tlie  Arrest.  —  Peter's 
Recklessness. — Flight  of  the  Apostles. — Jesus  led  to  Annas;  to  (jaia- 
phas.  —  Jesus  affirms  that  he  is  the  Messiah. —  Frivolous  Accusations. — 
Peter  denies  his  Lord.  —  Jesus  is  conducted  to  Pilate. — The  Examination. 

—  Scourging  the  Innocent.  —  Insults  and  Mockery.  —  Rage  of  the  Chief 
Priests  and  Scribes.  —  Embarrassment  of  Pilate.  —  He  surrenders  Jesus 
to  his  Enemies.  — The  Crucifixion.  —  The  Resurrection.  —  Repeated  Ap- 
pearance to  his  Disciples 121 

7 


8 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

THE  COXTERSION*  AND  MINISTRY  OF    SAUL  OF  TARSUS. 

The  Baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost.— BoUluess  of  the  Apostles.— Anger  of  the 
Rulers.— Martyrdom  of  Stephen.— Baptism  of  tlie  Eunuch.— Saul's 
Journey  to  Damascus.- His  Conversion.— The  Disciples  fear  him.— His 
Escape  from  tlie  citv.— Saul  in  Jerusalem.— His  Commission  to  the  Gen- 
tiles.-The  C  u version  of  Cornelius.— The  Vision  of  Peter.— Persecution 
oftheDisciples.— Imprisonment  of  Peter.— Saul  and  Barnabas  in  Antioch 
^  —Punishment  of  Elymas.— Missionary  Tour.— Incidents  and  Results.    .    143 

CHAPTER    VII. 

MISSIONARY  ADVENTURES. 

The  First  Controversy.— Views  of  the  Two  Parties.— Council  at  Jerusalem. 
—Results  of  C'>uncil.— The  Letter.— Vacillation  of  Peter.— Rebuked  by 
Paid  —The  Missionary  f:xcursion  of  Paul  and  Barnabas.— They  traverse 
the  Island  of  Cyprus.— Land  on  the  Coast  of  Asia  ]Minor.— Mark  returns 
to  Syria.— Results  of  this  Tour.— Paul  and  Silas  set  out  on  a  Second 
Tour  through  Asia  Minor.— Cross  the  Hellespont.— Introduction  of 
Christianity  to  Europe.— Heroism  of  Paul  at  Philippi.— Tour  t4irough 
Macedonia  and  Greece.— Character  of  Paul's  Preaching.— Peter's  De- 
scription of  the  Final  Conllagratiou.— False  Charges.— Paul  in  Athens; 
in  Corinth.— Return  to  Jerusalem 167 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE  CAPTIVE  IN  CHAINS. 

The  Third  Missionary  Tour.— Paul  at  Ephesus.— The  Great  Tumult— The 
Voyage  to  Greece. — Return  to  Asia  Minor  and  to  Jerusalem.— His  Re- 
cep"tion  at  Jerusalem.— His  Arrest,  and  the  Riot.— Speech  to  the  Mob.— 
Paul  imprisoned.— Dang"  of  Assassination.— Transferred  to  Cwsarea. 
—His  Defence  before  Festus  and  Agrippa.— The  Appeal  to  Casar.— 
The  Voyage  to  Rome.— The  Shipwreck.— Continued  Cai)tivity.        .       .     1S5 

CHAPTER    IX. 

THE  FIRST  PERSECUTION. 

The  Poi)ulation  of  Rome.— The  Reign  of  Tiberius  Ciesar.— His  Character 
and  Death.— The  Proposal  to  deify  Jesus.— Caligula.— His  Crimes,  and 
the  Earthly  Retribution.— Nero  ancl  his  Career.— His  Crimes  and  Death. 
—The  Spirit  of  the  Gospel.— Sufl'erings  of  the  Christians.— Testimony  of 
Tacitus.— Testimony  of  Chrysostom.— Panic  in  Rome.— The  Sins  and 
Sorrows  of  weary  Centuries.— Noble  Sentiments  of  the  Bishop  of  Kome     213 

CHAPTER    X. 
ROMAN    EMPERORS,  GOOD   AND    BAD. 

Character  of  the  Roman  Army.— Conspiracy  of  Otho. — Death  of  Galba.— 
Vitellius  Emperor.— Revolt  of  the  Jews,  and  Destruction  of  Jerusalem.— 
Reign  of  Vesi)asian. — Character  of  Titus;  of  Domitian.— Religion  of 
Pagan  Rome.— Nerva.— Anecdotes  of  St.  John.— Exi)loits  of  Trajan.— 
Letter  of  Pliny.— Letter  of  Trajan 231 

CHAPTER    XI. 

MARTYRDOM. 

The  Martyrdom  of  Ignatius. — Death  of  Trajan.— Succession  of  Adrian.— 
Inliilel  Assaults.— Celcus.— The  Apology  of  Quadrat.— The  Martyrdom 
of  Symphorose  and  her  Sous. — Character  and  Death  of  Adrian. — An- 
toninus.—Con%'ersion  of  Justin  Martyr.— His  Apology. — Marcus  Aure- 
lius. — Hostility  of  the  Populace.— The  jMartyrdom  of  Polycarp.        .        .    249 

CHAPTER    XII. 

PAGAN  HOME. 

Infamy  of  Conuuodus.— His  Death.- The  Reign  of  Pertinax.— The  Mob  of 
Soldiers.— Death  of  Pertinax.- Julian  purchases  the  Crown. — Rival 
Claimants.— Severus. — Persecutions.- Martyrdom  of  Perpetua  and  Fe- 
Ucitas.— The  Reign  of  Caracalla. — Fiendlike  Atrocities. — Elagal)alu8, 
Priest  of  the  Sun. — Death  by  the  Slob.- Alexander  and  his  Mother. — 
Contrast  between  Paganism  and  Christianity.— The  Sin  of  Unbelief.       .    263 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

SIN  AND  MISERY. 

Haxlmin  the  Goth.  —  Brutal  Assassination  of  Alexander.  —  Merciless  Pro- 
scription.—  Revolt  of  the  Army  on  the  Danube. —  Rage  of  Maxirain.— 
His  March  upon  Rome.  — Consternation  in  the  Capital.  —  Assassination  of 
Maximin.  —  Successors  to  the  Throne.  —  Popular  Suffrage  unavailing. — 
Persecution  under  Decius.  —  Individual  Cases.  —  Extent  of  the  Roman 
Empire.  —  Extent  of  the  Persecution.  —  Heroism  of  the  Christians    .        .    2*« 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

INVASION,  CIVIL  WAK,   AND  UNRELENTING   PERSECUTION. 

^SmllianuB  and  Valerian. —  Barbaric  Hordes.  —  Slavery  and  its  Retributlun. 

—  A  tvful  Fate  of  V^alerian.  —  Ruin  of  the  Roman  Empire.  —  Zenobia  and 
her  Captivity.  —  The  Slave  Diocleti'an  becomes  Emperor.  —  His  Reign, 
Abdication,  Death.  —  Division  of  the  Empire.  —  Terrible  Persecution.  — 
The  Glory  of  Christianity.  —  Characteristics  of  the  First  Three  Centuries. 

—  Abasement  of  Rome  .        . 2*1 

CHAPTER    XV. 

CONSTANTINE.  —  THE  BANNER  OF  THE  CROSS  UNFURLED. 

Helena,  the  Christian  Empress.  —  Constantine,  her  Son,  favors  the  Chris- 
tians. —  Crumbling  of  the  Empire.  —  Constantine  the  Christian,  and 
Maxentius  the  Pagan.  —  Vision  of  Constantine.  —  The  Unfurled  Cross. — 
Christianity  favored  by  the  Court.  —  Liciiilus  defends  the  Christiana. — 
Writings  of  Eusebius.  —  Apostasy  of  Licinius.  —  Cruel  Persecution    .        .    3W. 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

THE  CONVERSION  OF  CONSTANTINE. 

The  Arian  Controversy.  —  Sanguinary  Conflict  between  Paganism  and  Chrl»~ 
tianity. —  Founding  of  Constantinople.  —  The  Council  of  Nice.  —  Its  De- 
cision.—  Duplicity  of  some  of  the  Arians.  —  Tlie  Nicene  Creed.  —  Tragic 
Scene  in  the  Life  of  Constantine.  —  His  Penitence  and  true  Conversion.  — 
His  Baptism,  and  Reception  into  the  Church.  —  Charles  V.  —  The  Emperor 
Napoleon  1 314' 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

JULIAN  THE  APOSTATE. 

The  Devotion  of  Constantine  to  Christianity.  —  Constantlus  and  the  Barba- 
rians.—  Conspiracy  of  Magnentius. —  The  Decisive  Battle.  —  Decay  of 
Rome.  —  Fearful  Retribution.  —  Noble  Sentiments  of  the  Bishop  of  Alex- 
andria,—  Death  of  Constantius. — Gullus  and  .Julian.  —  Julian  enthroned. 

—  His  Apostasy.  —  His  Warfare  against  Christianity.  —  Unavailing  At- 
tempt to  rebuild  .Jerusalem.  —  Persecution..  -  -  His  Expedition  to  the  East, 
and  Painful  Death S2> 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

THE  I.M.MEDIATE  SUCCESSORS  OK  JULIAN. 

A.necdote.  —  Accession  of  Jovian.  —  His  Cliaracter.  —  Christianity  rein- 
stated. —  Death  of  Jovian.  —  Recall  of  Athaiiaslus.  —  Wide  Condemnation 
of  Arianism. —  Heroism  of  Jovian.  —  Valentinian  and  Valens.  —  Valen- 
tinian  enthroned.  —  Valens  in  the  East.  —  Barbarian  Irruptions.  —  Reign 
of  Theodosius.  —  Aspect  of  the  Barbarians. —  Rome  captured  by  Alaric. — 
Character  of  Alaric.  —  His  Deatli  and  Burial. —  Remarkable  Statement  of 
Adolphus.  —  Attila  the  Hun.  —  Valentinian  III.  —  Acadius.  —  Eloquence 
of  Chrysostom.  — His  Banishment  and  Death.  —  Rise  of  Mouasticism       ,    KJ 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE    FIFTH    CENTURY. 

Christianity  the  only  Possibl-^  Religion.  —  Adventures  of  Placidia. —  Her 
Marriage  with  Adolphus  the  (iotli.  —  Scenes  of  Violence  and  Crime. — 
Attila  the  Hun.  —  Nuptials  of  IJalio. —  Eudoxia  and  her  Fate.  —  Triumph 
of  Odoacer  the  Gotli. — Cliaracter  of  the  Koiiian  Nobles.  —  Conquests  of 
Theodoric. — John  Chrysostoin. — The  Origin  of  llonasticism.  —  Augus- 
tine.—  Uia  Dissipation,  Conversion,  and  Christian  Career     ....    9M 


CO  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

CBNTBRIES  OF  WAR  AND  WOE. 

0««Tttl8lon8  of  the  Sixth  Century.— Corruption  of  the  Church. —The  Rise 
of  Monasteries.  —  Rivalry  between  Rome  and  Constantinople.  —  Moham- 
med and  his  Career.  — His  Personal  Appearance.— His  System  of  Reli- 
<5ion.  — His  Death.  —  Military  Expeditions  of  the  Moslems.  — The  Threat- 
ened Conquest  of  Europe.  — Capture  of  Alexandria.  —  Burning  of  the 
Library.  — Rise  of  the  Feudal  System.  —  Charlemagne,  —  Barbarian  An- 
Cagonism  to  Christianity       ,..•.■ IM 

CHAPTER    XXI. 

THE   DARK  AGES. 

tfc«  Anticipated  Second  Coming  of  Christ.  —  State  of  the  TVorld  in  the  Tenth 
Century.  —  Enduring  Architecture.  —  Power  of  the  Papacy.  —  "Vitality  of 
the  Christian  Religion.  —  The  Pope  and  the  Patriarch.  —  Intolerance  of 
Hildebrand.  —  Humiliation  of  the  Empejor  Henry  IV".  —  Farewell  Letter 
of  Monomaque.  —  The  Crusades.  —  Vladimir  of  Russia.  —  His  Introduc- 
tion of  Christianity  to  his  Realms.  —  Marriage  with  the  Christian  Princess 
Anne.  —  Extirpation  of  Paganism.  —  The  Baptism. — The  Spiritual  Con- 
version of  Vladimir MS 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

THE      REFORMATION. 

rwo  Aspects  of  Catholicism.  —  Jubilee  at  Rome.  —  Infamy  of  Philip  of 
France.  —  Banditti  Bishops.  —  Sale  of  Indulgences.  —  Tetzel  the  Peddler, 
—  The  Rise  of  Protestantism.  —  Luther  and  tbe  Diet  at  Worms.  —  Intoler- 
«oce  of  Charles  V.  —  Civil  War  and  its  Reverses.  —  Pertidy  of  Charles  V. 
— Ooalition  against  the  Protestants. — Abdication  and  Death      .        .        .    411 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 

THE  MASSACRE  OF  ST.  BARTHOLOMEW, 

Mceiples  of  the  two  Parties.  —  Ferdinand's  Appeal  to  the  Pope. —  The  Celi- 
bacy of  the  Clergy.  —  Maximilian.  —  His  Protection  of  the  Protestants. — 
The  Reformation  in  France.  —  Jeanne  d'Albret,  Queen  of  Navarre.  —  Pro- 
posed Marriage  of  Henry  of  Navarre  and  Marguerite  of  France.  —  Perfidy 
of  Catharine  de*Medici.  —  The  Nuptials.  —  The  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholo- 
mew.—Details  of  its  Horrors.  —  Indignation  of  Protestant  Europe. — 
{Jeath  of  Charles  IX 44t 

CHAPTER   XXIV, 

THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES. 

Cbaracter  of  Henry  III.  — Assassination  of  the  Duke  of  Guise.- Cruel 
Edicts  of  Louis  XIV. —  Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes.  —  Sufferings 
of  Protestants.  —  Important  Question.  —  Thomas  Chalmers.  —  Experiment 
at  St.  John.  —  His  Labors  and  Death.  —  Jonathan  Edwards.  —  His  Resolu- 
tions. —  His  Marriage.—  His  Trials.  — His  Death.  — John  Wesley. —  His 
Conversion.  — George  Wliitelield.— First  Jlethodist  Conference. —Death 
«f  Wesley.  —  Robert  Hall  .—  His  Character  and  Death.  —  William  Paley.  — 
His  Works  and  Death.  — The  Sabbath.  — Power  of  the  Gospel.— Socrates, 
—  Scene  on  the  Prairie  —  The  Bible 4<M 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE    PRESENT    AND    FUTURE    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 

ChTislianity  Characterized.— Territorial  Extension  of  Christianity.— Its  Numerical 
Status. — Greek,  Roinan  Catholic,  and  Protestant  Governments. — Growth  of 
Protestant  Denominations. — Relations  of  Christianity  to  Modern  Proarress. — The 
Home  Life. — Woman. — Christianity  Sure  to  Triumph,  because  of  Increase  of  Mis- 
sionary Kffort ;  because  it  is  Eminently  Humanitarian;  Harmonizes  Capital  and 
Valwr;  Antag-onizes  Tyranny  and  Monopoly  ;  Removes  the  Causes  for  Social  Dis- 
order;  Seeks  to  Extirpate  all  Evils,  and  Utfers  the  Highest  Possible  Good  to  all  in 
<bi8  Life,  and  in  the  Life  to  Come. 505 


History  of  Christianity. 


CHAPTER   I. 


THE     BIRTH,    CHILDHOOD,    AXD    EARLY    MINISTRY,    OF    .TE8U8. 


The  Roman  Empire.  —  Moral  Influence  of  Jesus.  —  John.  —The  Annunciation. — 
The  Birth  of  Jesus.  —  Visit  of  tlie  Ma^.  —  Wrath  of  Herod.  —  Flight  to  Egypt. 
—  Return  to  Nazareth.  —  Jesus  in  the  Temple.  —  John  the  Baptist.  —  The  Temp- 
tation.—The  First  Disciples.  —  The  First  Miracle. — Visit  to  Jerusalem.— 
NIcodemug.  —  The  Woman  of  Samaria. —  Healing  of  the  Nobleman's  Bon.  — 
Visit  to  Capernaum.  —  Peter  and  Andrew  called.  —  James  and  John  called.— 
The  Demoniac  healed.  —  Tour  through  Galilee. 


0  one  now  takes  much  interest  in  the  history  'tf 
the  world  before  the  coming  of  Christ.  The  old 
dynasties  of  Babylon,  Media,  Assyria,  are  but 
dim  spectres  lost  in  the  remoteness  of  the  long- 
forgotten  past.  Though  the  Christian  lingers 
with  solemn  pleasure  over  the  faintly-revealed 
scenes  of  patriarchal  life,  still  -he  feels  but  little 
personal  interest  in  the  gorgeous  empires  which  rise  and  dis- 
appear before  him  in  those  remote  times,  in  spectral  vision, 
like  the  genii  of  an  Arabian  tale. 

Thebes,  Palmyra,  Nineveh,  —  palatial  mansions  once  lined 
their  streets,  and  pride  and  opulence  thronged  their  dwellings  : 
but  their  ruins  have   faded  away,  their  rocky  sepulchres  are 

11 


12  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

sw  ept  clean  by  the  winds  of  centuries ;  and  none  but  a  fe\if 
antiquarians  now  care  to  know  of  their  prosperity  or  adversity, 
of  their  pristine  grandeur  or  their  present  decay. 

All  this  is  changed  since  the  coming  of  Christ.  Eighteen 
centuries  ago  a  babe  was  born  in  the  stable  of  an  inn,  in  the 
Roman  province  of  Judsea.  The  life  of  that  babe  has  stamped 
a  new  impress  upon  the  history  of  the  world.  When  the  child 
Jef'us  was  born,  all  the  then  known  nations  of  the  earth  were 
in  subjection  to  one  government,  —  that  of  Rome. 

The  Atlantic  Ocean  was  an  unexplored  sea,  whose  depths 
no  mariner  ever  ventured  to  penetrate.  The  Indies  had  but 
a  shadowy  and  almost  fabulous  existence.  Rumor  said,  that 
over  the  wild,  unexplored  wastes  of  interior  Asia,  tierce  tribes 
wandered,  sweeping  to  and  fro,  like  demons  of  darkness ;  and 
marvellous  stories  were  told  of  their  monstrous  aspect  and 
tiendlike  ferocity. 

The  Mediterranean  Sea,  then  the  largest  body  of  water 
really  known  upon  the  globe,  was  but  a  Roman  lake.  It  was 
the  central  portion  of  the  Roman  Empire.  Around  its  shores 
were  clustered  the  thronged  provinces  and  the  majestic  cities 
which  gave  Rome  celebrity  above  all  previous  dynasties,  and 
which  invested  the  empire  of  the  Caesars  with  fame  that  no 
modern  kingdom,  empire,  or  republic,  has  been  able  to  eclipse. 

A  fewjears  before  the  birth  of  Christ,  Julius  Caesar  per- 
ished in  the  senate-chamber  at  Romft,  pierced  by  the  daggers 
of  Brutus  and  other  assassins.  At  the  great  victory  of  Phar- 
ealia,  Caesar  had  struck  down  his  only  rival  Porapey,  and  had 
concentrated,  the  power  of  the  world  in  his  single  hand. 
His  nephew  Octavius,  the  second  Caesar,  surnamed  Augustus, 
or  the  August,  v/as,  at  the  time  Jesus  was  born,  the  monarch 
of  the  world.  Notwithstanding  a  few  nominal  restraints,  he 
was  an  absolute  sovereign,  without  any  constitutional  checks. 
It  is  not  too  much  to  say,  that  his  power  was  unlimited.  He 
could  do  what  he  pleased  with  the  property,  the  liberty,  and 
the  lives  of  every  man,  woman,  and  child  of  more  than  three 
hundred  millions  composing  the  Rocian  Empire.  Such  power 
no  mortal  had  ever  swayed  before.  Such  power  no  mortal 
will  ever  sway  again. 


CIIILDKOOD  AND  EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JKSUS.        13 

Fortunately  for  humanity,  Octavius  Caesar  was,  in  the  main, 
a  good  man.  He  merited  the  epithet  of  August.  Though 
many  of  the  vices  of  paganism  soiled  his  character,  still,  in 
accordance  with  the  dim  light  of  those  dark  days,  he  endeav- 
ored to  wield  his  immense  power  in  promotion  of  the  welfare 
of  his  people. 

Little  did  this  Koman  emperor  imagine,  as  he  sat  enthroned 
in  his  gorgeous  palace  upon  the  Capitoliue  Hill,  that  a  babe 
slumbering  in  a  manger  at  Bethlehem,  an  obscure  hamlet  in 
the  remote  province  of  Syria,  and  whose  infant  wailings  per- 
haps blended  with  the  bleating  of  the  goat  or  the  lowing  of 
the  kine,  was  to  establish  an  empire,  before  which  all  the 
power  of  the  Caesars  was  to  dwindle  into  insignificance. 

But  so  it  was.  Jesus,  the  babe  of  Bethlehem,  has  become, 
beyond  all  others,  whether  philosophers,  warriors,  or  kings,  the 
most  conspicuous  being  who  ever  trod  this  globe.  Before 
the  name  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth  all  others  fade  away.  Unedu- 
cated, he  has  introduced  principles  which  have  overthrown 
the  proudest  systems  of  ancient  philosophy.  By  the  utterance 
of  a  few  words,  all  of  which  can  be  written  on  half  a  dozen 
pages,  he  has  demolished  all  the  pagan  systems  which  pride 
and  passion  and  power  had  then  enthroned.  The  Roman 
gods  and  goddesses — Jupiter,  Juno,  Venus,  Bacchus,  Diana  — 
have  fled  before  the  approach  of  the  religion  of  Jesus,  as  fabled 
spectres  vanish  before  the  dawn. 

Jesus,  the  "  Son  of  man  "  and  the  "  Son  of  God,"  has  in- 
tro-iuced  a  system  of  religion  so  comprehensive,  that  it  is 
adapted  to  every  conceivable  situation  in  life ;  so  simple,  that 
the  most  unlearned,  and  even  children,  can  comprehend  it. 

This  babe  of  Bethlehem,  whose  words  were  so  few,  whose 
brief  life  was  so  soon  ended,  and  whose  sacrificial  death  upon 
the  cross  was  so  wonderful,  though  dead,  still  lives  and 
reigns  in  this  world,  —  a  monarcti  more  influential  than  any 
other,  or  all  other  sovereigns  upon  the  globe.  His  empire  has 
advanced  majestically,  with  ever-increasing  power,  down  the 
path  of  eighteen  centuries;  and  few  will  doubt  that  it  is  des- 
tined to  take  possession  of  the  whole  world. 


14  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

The  Caesars  have  perished,  and  their  palaces  are  in  ruins. 
The  empire  of  Charlemagne  has  risen,  like  one  of  those  gor 
geous  clouds  we  often  admire,  brilliant  with  the  radiance  of 
the  setting  sun ;  and,  like  that  cloud,  it  has  vanished  forever. 
Charles  V.  has  marshalled  the  armies  of  Europe  around  his 
throne,  and  has  almost  rivalled  the  Caesars  in  the  majesty  of 
his  sway ;  and,  like  a  dream,  the  vision  of  his  universal  empire 
has  fled. 

But  the  kingdom  of  Jesus  has  survived  all  these  wrecks  of 
empires.  Without  a  palace  or  a  court,  without  a  bayonet  or  a 
sabre,  without  any  emoluments  of  rank  or  wealth  or  power 
offered  by  Jesus  to  his  subjects,  his  kingdom  has  advanced 
Bteadily,  resistlessly,  increasing  in  strength  every  hour,  crush- 
ing all  opposition,  triumphing  over  all  time's  changes ;  so  that, 
at  the  present  moment,  the  kingdom  of  Jesus  is  a  stronger 
kingdom,  more  potent  in  all  the  elements  of  influence  over 
the  human  heart,  than  all  the  other  governments  of  the  earth. 

There  is  not  a  man  upon  this  globe  who  would  now  lay 
down  his  life  from  love  for  any  one  of  the  numerous  monarchs 
of  Rome ;  but  there  are  millions  who  would  go  joyfully  to 
the  dungeon  or  the  stake  from  love  for  that  Jesus  who  com- 
menced his  earthly  career  in  the  manger  of  a  country  inn, 
whose  whole  life  was  but  a  scene  of  poverty  and  suffering,  and 
who  finally  perished  upon  the  cross  in  the  endurance  of  a 
cruel  death  with  malefactors. 

As  this  child,  from  the  period  of  whose  birth  time  itself  is 
now.  dated,  was  passing  through  the  season  of  infancy  and 
childhood,  naval  fleets  swept  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  and 
Roman  legions  trampled  bloodily  over  subjugated  provinces. 
There  were  conflagrations  of  cities,  ravages  of  fields,  fierce 
battles,  slaughter,  misery,  death.  Nearly  all  these  events  are 
now  forgotten  ;  but  the  name  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth  grows  more 
lustrous  as  the  ages  roll  on. 

The  events  which  preceded  the  birth  of  Jesus  cannot  be  bet- 
ter described  than  in  the  language  of  the  inspired  writers :  — 

"There  was  in  the  days  of  Herod,  the  king  of  Judaea,  a 
certain  priest  named  Zacharias,  of  the  course  of  Abia;  and 


CHILDHOOD   AND   EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JESUS.        15 

his  wife  was  of  the  daughters  of  Aaron,  and  her  name  was 
Elisabeth.  And  they  were  both  righteous  before  God,  walk- 
ing in  all  the  commandments  and  ordinances  of  the  Lord 
blameless.  And  they  had  no  child,  because  Elisabeth  was 
barren ;  and  they  both  were  now  well  stricken  in  years.  And 
it  came  to  pass,  that  while  he  executed  the  priest's  office  before 
God  in  the  order  of  his  course,  according  to  the  custom  of 
the  priest's  office,  his  lot  was  to  burn  incense  when  he  went 
into  the  temple  of  the  Lord;  and  the  whole  multitude  of  the 
people  were  praying  without  at  the  time  of  incense. 

"  And  there  appeared  unto  him  an  angel  of  the  Lord,  stand- 
ing on  the  right  side  of  the  altar  of  incense.  And,  when 
Zacharias  saw  him,  he  was  troubled,  and  fear  fell  upon  him. 
But  the  angel  said  unto  him,  Fear  not,  Zacharias  :  for  thy 
prayer  is  heard ;  and  thy  wife  Elisabeth  shall  bear  thee  a  son, 
and  thou  shalt  call  his  name  John.  And  thou  shalt  have  joy 
and  gladness,  and  many  shall  rejoice  at  his  birth.  For  he  shall 
be  great  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  and  shall  drink  neither  wine 
nor  strong  drink ;  and  he  shall  be  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost 
even  from  his  mother's  womb.  And  many  of  the  children  of 
Israel  shall  he  turn  to  the  Lord  their  God.  And  he  shall  go 
before  him  in  the  spirit  and  power  of  Elias,  to  turn  the  hearts 
of  the  fathers  to  the  children,  and  the  disobedient  to  the  wis- 
dom of  the  just ;  to  make  ready  a  people  prepared  for  the 
Lord, 

"  And  Zacharias  said  unto  the  angel.  Whereby  shall  I  know 
this  ?  for  I  am  an  old  man,  and  my  wife  well  stricken  in 
years. 

''  And  the  angel,  answering,  said  unto  him,  I  am  Gabriel, 
that  stand  in  the  presence  of  God,  and  am  sent  to  speak  unto 
thee,  and  to  show  thee  these  glad  tidings.  And,  behold,  thou 
shalt  be  dumb,  and  not  able  to  speak,  until  the  day  that  these 
things  shall  be  performed,  because  thou  believest  not  my 
words,  which  shall  be  fulfilled  in  their  season. 

"  And  the  people  waited  for  Zacharias,  and  marvelled  that 
he  tarried  so  long  in  the  temple.  And,  when  he  came  out,  he 
oould  not  speak  unto  them.     And  they  perceived  that  he  had 


16  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

seen  a  vision  in  the  temple ;  for  lie  beckoned  unto  them,  and 
remained  speechless.  And  it  came  to  pass,  that,  as  soon  as  the 
days  of  his  ministration  were  accomplished,  he  departed  to  his 
own  house.  And,  after  those  days,  his  wife  Elisabeth  con- 
ceived, and  hid  herself  five  months,  saying,  Thus  hath  the 
Lord  dealt  with  me  in  the  days  wherein  he  looked  on  me  to 
take  away  my  reproach  among  men. 

"  And  in  the  sixth  month  the  angel  Gabriel  was  sent  from 
God  unto  a  city  of  Galilee,  named  Nazareth,  to  a  virgin 
espoused  to  a  man  whose  name  was  Joseph,  of  the  house  of 
David;  and  the  virgin's  name  was  Mary.  And  the  angel 
came  in  unto  her,  and  said.  Hail,  thou  that  art  highly  favored ; 
the  Lord  is  with  thee :  blessed  art  thou  among  women.  And, 
when  she  saw  him,  she  was  troubled  at  his  saying,  and  cast  in 
her  mind  what  manner  of  salutation  this  should  be.  And  the 
angel  said  unto  her, 

"  Fear  not,  Mary ;  for  thou  hast  found  favor  with  God. 
And,  behold,  thou  shalt  conceive  in  thy  womb,  and  bring  foi-th 
a  son;  and  thou  shalt  call  his  name  Jesus.  He  shall  be 
great,  and  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  the  Highest :  and  the 
Lord  God  shall  give  unto  him  the  throne  of  his  father  David ; 
and  he  shall  reign  over  the  house  of  Jacob  forever ;  and  of 
his  kingdom  there  shall  be  no  end. 

''Then  said  Mary  unto  the  angel,  How  shall  this  be,  seeing 
I  know  not  a  man  ? 

"And  the  angel  answered  and  said  unto  her,  The  Holy 
Ghost  shall  come  upon  thee,  and  the  power  of  the  Highest 
shall  overshadow  thee :  therefore,  also,  that  holy  thing  that 
shall  be  born  of  thee  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  God.  And, 
behold,  thy  cousin  Elisabeth,  she  hath  also  conceived  a  son  in 
her  old  age ;  and  this  is  the  sixth  month  with  her  who  was 
called  barren.     For  with  God  nothing  shall  be  impossible. 

"  And  Mary  said.  Behold  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord :  be 
it  unto  me  according  to  thy  word.  And  the  angel  departed 
from  her."  ^ 

Elisabeth  was  at  that  time  residing  in  what  was   called  th* 

>  Luke  1.5-38. 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JESUS.         17 

"hill-country"  of  Judsea,  several  miles  south  of  Jerusalem. 
Mary  was  in  Galilee,  the  extreme  northern  part  of  Palestine. 
"  And  Mary  arose  in  those  days,  and  went  into  the  hill-coun- 
try with  haste,  into  a  city  of  Juda;  and  entered  into  the 
house  of  Zacharias,  and  saluted  Elisabeth.  And  it  came  to 
pass,  that,  when  Elisabeth  heard  the  salutation  of  Mary,  the 
babe  leaped  in  her  womb ;  and  Elisabeth  was  filled  with  the 
Holy  Ghost ;  and  she  spake  out  with  a  loud  voice,  and  said, 

"  Blessed  art  thou  among  women,  and  blessed  is  the  fruit 
of  thy  womb.  And  whence  is  this  to  me,  that  the  mother  of 
my  Lord  should  come  to  me  ?  for,  lo  !  as  soon  as  the  voice 
of  thy  salutation  sounded  in  mine  ears,  the  babe  leaped  in  my 
womb  for  joy.  And  blessed  is  she  that  believed ;  for  there 
shall  be  a  performance  of  those  things  which  were  told  her 
from  the  Lord. 

"And  Mary  said.  My  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord,  and  my 
spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God  my  Saviour.  For  he  hath  regarded 
the  low  estate  of  his  handmaiden ;  for,  behold,  from  hence- 
forth all  generations  shall  call  me  blessed.  For  he  that  is 
mighty  hath  done  to  me  great  things ;  and  holy  is  his  name. 
Ano  his  mercy  is  on  them  that  fear  him  from  generation  tc 
generation.  He  hath  showed  strength  with  his  arms ;  he 
hath  scattered  the  proud  in  the  imagination  of  their  hearts. 
He  hath  put  down  the  mighty  from  their  seats,  and  exalted 
them  of  low  degree.  He  hath  filled  the  hungry  with  good 
things,  and  the  rich  he  hath  sent  empty  away.  He  hath 
holpen  his  servant  Israel,  in  remembrance  of  his  mercy ;  as  he 
spake  to  our  fathers,  to  Abraham,  and  to  his  seed  forever." 

"  Now,  the  birth  of  Jesus  Christ  was  on  this  wise  :  "When 
as  his  mother  Mary  was  espoused  to  Joseph,  before  they  came 
together,  she  was  found  with  child  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Then 
Joseph  her  husband,  being  a  just  man,  and  not  willing  to  make 
her  a  piiblic  example,  was  minded  to  put  her  away  privily. 
But,  while  he  thought  on  these  things,  behold,  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  appeared  to  him  in  a  dream,  saying,  Joseph,  thou  son  of 
David,  fear  not  to  take  unto  thee  Mary  thy  wife ;  for  that 
which  is  conceived  in  her  is  of  the  Holy  Ghost.     And  she 


18  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

shall  bring  forth  a  son,  and  thou  shalt  call  his  name  Jesu?  ; 
for  ho  shall  save  his  people  from  their  sins. 

"  Now,  all  this  was  done  that  it  might  he  fulfilled  which 
was  spoken  of  the  Lord  by  the  prophet,  saying.  Behold,  a 
\irgin  shall  be  with  child,  and  shall  bring  forth  a  son,  and 
they  shall  call  his  name  Emmanuel ;  which,  being  interpreted, 
'i&  God  with  us} 

"  Then  Joseph,  being  raised  from  sleep,  did  as  the  angel  of 
the  Lord  had  bidden  him,  and  took  unto  him  his  wife ;  and 
knew  her  not  till  she  had  brought  forth  her  first-born  son." 

Mary,  upon  her  visit  to  Elisabeth,  remained  with  her  about 
three  months,  and  then  returned  to  Nazareth.  Upon  the  birth 
of  John,  he  was  taken  on  the  eighth  day  to  be  circumcised. 
His  father,  who  still  remained  dumb,  wrote  that  he  should  be 
called  John.  To  the  surprise  of  his  friends,  speech  was  then 
restored  to  him.  These  remarkable  events  were  extensively 
noised  abroad.  "  And  all  they  that  heard  them  laid  them  up 
in  their  hearts,  saying.  What  manner  of  child  shall  this 
be?" 

In  the  year  of  Rome  450,  the  Emperor  Caesar  Augustus 
ordered  a  general  census  of  the  population  of  Palestine  to  be 
taken,  that  he  might,  with  exactitude,  know  the  resources  of 
the  province.  The  Jewish  custom  had  long  been,  that  a  man 
should  be  registered  in  his  birthplace  instead  of  that  of  his 
residence.  During  the  months  of  January  and  February  of 
that  year,  all  the  narrow  pathways  of  Judaea  were  crowded  by 
cavalcades  of  those  who  were  seeking  their  native  places  to  be 
registered  according  to  this  decree. 

Among  these  lowly  pilgrims  there  were  two,  Joseph  and 
Mary,  from  the  obscure  village  of  Nazareth.  Toiling  along 
through  the  ravines  of  Galilee,  over  the  plains  of  Samaria,  and 
across  the  hill-country  of  Judaea,  they  continued  their  journey, 
until,  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  day,  they  entered  the  little  vil- 
lage of  Bethlehem,  about  five  miles  south  of  Jerusalem. 

So  many  travellers  had  entered  the  village  before  them,  that 
there  was  no  room  left  in  the  inn.     Perhaps  even  the  stable 

•  Isa.  vii.  14. 


CHILDHOOD  AND   EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JESUS.         19 

might  have  been  refused,  had  not  the  woman's  condition  ap- 
pealed to  the  heart  of  the  inn-keeper.  But  there  she  and  hei 
husband  found  a  place  to  rest. 

Outside  of  the  village  stretched  the  plains,  where,  hundreds 
of  years  before,  David  watched  his  father's  flocks.  On  the  same 
hill-slopes  shepherds  tended  their  sheep  still.  It  was  appar- 
ently a  serene  and  cloudless  night.  Suddenly  there  appeared 
in  the  heavens,  descending  from  amidst  the  stars,  the  form  of 
an  angel.  The  simple-minded  shepherds  gazed  upon  the  won- 
derful spectacle  with  alarm.  The  angel,  radiant  with  heaven's 
light,  addressed  them,  saying,  — 

"  Fear  not ;  for,  behold,  I  bring  you  good  tidings  of  great 
joy,  which  shall  be  to  all  people.  For  unto  you  is  born  this 
day,  in  the  city  of  David,  a  Saviour,  which  is  Christ  the  Lord. 
And  this  shall  be  a  sign  unto  you  :  Ye  shall  find  the  babe 
wrapped  in  swaddling-clothes,  lying  in  a  manger." 

As  these  words  were  uttered,  the  babe  was  born ;  and  imme- 
diately there  appeared  a  va^^t  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host, 
—  the  retinue  which  had  accompanied  the  celestial  visitant 
from  heaven  to  earth.  Such  a  band  never  before  met  mortal 
eyes.  With  simultaneous  voice  they  sang,  while  the  melody 
floated  over  the  silent  hills,  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest ;  and 
on  earth  peace,  good-will  toward  men." 

The  voice  of  prophecy  had  announced,  ages  before,  that  the 
long-expected  Messiah  should  be  born  in  Bethlehem.  Seven 
hundred  years  had  passed  since  the  prophet  Micah  wrote,  — 

''And  thou  Bethlehem,  in  the  land  of  Juda,  art  not  the 
least  among  the  princes  of  Juda;  for  out  of  thee  shall  come  a 
Governor  that  shall  rule  my  people  Israel."  ^ 

The  angels  disappeared,  and  the  heavenly  depths  resumed 
their  accustomed  calm.  But  the  scene  and  the  words  sank 
deep  into  the  hearts  of  the  shepherds,  who  believed  without 
questioning  this  wonderful  announcement.  The  time  foretold 
by  the  prophets  —  had  it  truly  come  ?  Was  the  long  watch- 
ing of  the  true-hearted  Jew  really  at  an  end  ? 

Making  haste  in  the  eagerness  of  their  hope,  the  shepherds 


20  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

went  to  Bethlehem,  and  found  Mary,  Joseph,  and  the  babe 
lying  in  the  manger.  Having  this  corroboration  of  the  angels' 
words,  they  told  to  all  whom  they  met  the  marvellous  scene 
which  they  had  witnessed.  All  wondered;  for  it  was  not  thus 
that  they  had  expected  the  Messiah  to  come.  But  Mary,  the 
mother,  kept  all  these  things,  and  pondered  them  in  her  heart. 

Although  the  birth  of  Jesus  was  thus  heralded  by  a  choir 
of  angels,  it  seems  not  to  have  been  universally  recognized 
that  the  Messiah  had  come.  The  evidence  is  abundant,  from 
passages  taken  from  both  Boman  and  Jewish  writers,  that 
there  was  a  general  expectation  at  the  time,  throughout  the 
East,  that  some  one  was  soon  to  be  born  in  Judaea  who  would 
rule  the  world.  The  ideas  prevailing  respecting  the  nature  of 
his  reign  were  extremely  vague.  Tacitus,  Suetonius,  Zoroaster, 
all  allude  to  this  coming  man,  whose  advent  had  been  so  mi- 
nutely foretold  in  the  sacred  writings  of  the  Jews. 

The  Persian  priests,  or  Magi,  were  among  the  most  learned 
men  of  those  times.  Whatever  of  science  then  was  known  was 
inseparably  blended  with  religion.  Astrology  and  astronomy 
were  kindred  studies.  The  Persian  Magi  were  surprised  by  the 
appearance  of  a  star,  or  meteor,  of  wonderful  brilliancy.  They 
interpreted  it  as  a  sign  that  the  long-expected  Messiah  was 
born.  As  they  approached  the  meteor,  it  moved  before  them. 
A  deputation  of  their  number  was  appointed  to  follow  it.  It 
led  them  to  Judtea.  They  then  began  eagerly  to  inquire 
where  the  child  was  born.  Herod  the  king  heard  these  strange 
tidings.  He  trembled  from  fear  that  this  prophetically-an- 
nounced ^Messiah  would  assume  kingly  poAver,  and  eject  him 
from  his  throne.  In  great  anxiety  he  sent  for  the  most  ap- 
proved interpreters  of  the  Bible,  and  inquired  of  them  if  the 
prophets  had  announced  the  place  in  which  the  Messiah  should 
be  born.  They  replied  that  the  place  was  Bethlehem,  citing 
in  proof  the  prediction  of  the  prophet  Micah.  Herod,  having 
determined  to  take  the  life  of  the  child,  called  the  Magi  before 
him,  and  directed  them  to  go  immediately  to  Bethlehem,  and, 
as  soon  as  they  had  found  the  young  child,  to  report  to  him, 
saying  that  he  wished  to  worship  him  also. 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JESUS.        21 

The  meteor,  which  had  led  them  from  the  phiins  of  Persia, 
and  which  had  perhaps,  for  a  time,  vanished,  re-appeared, 
and  went  before  them  till  it  came  and  stood  over  where  the 
young  child  was.  After  paying  the  divine  babe  the  tribute  of 
their  homage  and  adoration,  instead  of  returning  to  Herod 
with  the  information,  admonished  by  God,  they  departed  by  an 
unfrequented  route  to  their  own  country. 

The  infamous  king,  thus  baffled,  in  his  rage  sent  officers 
to  put  to  death  all  the  children  in  the  city  of  Bethlehem  and 
its  vicinity  who  were  two  years  of  age  and  under.  He  sup- 
posed that  in  that  number  the  infant  Jesus  would  surely  be 
included.  But  Joseph,  warned  by  God  in  a  dream,  escaped  by 
night  with  Mary  and  the  babe  into  Egypt,  about  forty  miles 
south  of  Bethlehem.  There  the  holy  family  remained  for 
several  months,  until  the  wretched  Herod  died,  devoured  by 
a  terrible  disease.  But,  as  his  son  Archelaus  ascended  the 
throne  vacated  by  Herod,  Joseph  did  not  deem  it  safe  to  return 
to  Judaea,  but,  by  a  circuitous  route,  found  his  way  back  to  the 
obscure  hamlet  of  Nazareth,  buried  among  the  mountains  of 
Galilee.  Here,  we  are  informed,  "  the  child  grew,  and  waxed 
strong  in  spirit,  filled  with  wisdom ;  and  the  grace  of  God  was 
upon  him." 

Before  the  flight  into  Egypt,  all  the  ceremonies  enjoined  by 
the  Mosaic  law  upon  the  birth  of  a  child  of  Jewish  parents 
were  strictly  observed.  At  the  presentation  of  the  babe  in  the 
temple,  the  aged  Simeon,  then  the  officiating  priest,  recognized 
him  as  the  long-looked-for  Messiah.  Anna  too,  the  prophetess, 
gave  thanks  to  the  Lord  for  him. 

After  these  scenes,  a  veil  is  dropped  over  the  child-life  of 
Jesus.  It  is  lifted  but  once,  when,  at  the  age  of  twelve,  the 
child  attended  his  parents  to  Jerusalem.  Being  separated 
from  Joseph  and  Mary  in  the  crowd,  they  sought  anxiously 
for  him,  and  found  him  in  the  temple,  sitting  in  the  midst  of 
the  doctors,  hearing  them,  and  asking  them  questions.  All 
who  heard  the  questions  and  the  answers  of  the  child  were 
amazed  at  his  wisdom.  To  the  tender  reproof  of  his  mother, 
he  answered  as  though  the  meaning  of  his  life  were  just  begin- 


22  HIS'^ORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY 

ning  to  dawn  upon  him  :  "  How  is  it  that  ye  sought  me  ?    Wis* 
ye  not  that  I  must  be  about  my  Father's  business  ?  " 

His  parents  div?  not  understand  him ;  but  he  returned  with 
them  to  Nazareth.  Here  among  the  hills  of  Galilee,  in  a 
village  so  obscure  that  its  name  is  not  mentioned  in  the  Old 
Testament,  the  youthful  years  of  Jesus  passed  unnoticed  away 
until  he  had  attained  the  age  of  thirty.  According  to  the 
Jewish  law,  a  man  could  not  take  upon  himself  priestly  duties 
until  he  was  thirty  years  old.  Not  until  then  was  he  consid- 
ered to  have  obtained  that  maturity  of  character  which  would 
warrant  him  in  assuming  the  office  of  a  teacher,  or  which 
would  enable  him  to  realize  the  sacredness  of  the  priestly  call- 
ing. No  record  of  these  years  is  given  us,  save  that  contained 
in  the  declaration,  "And  Jesus  increased  in  wisdom  and 
stature,  and  in  favor  with  God  and  man." 

John  the  Baptist,  forerunner  of  Jesus,  seems  to  have  paseed 
through  very  different  youthful  discipline  from  that  of  Him 
whom  he  was  to  herald.  Jesus  spent  his  childhood  and  early 
manhood,  so  far  as  we  are  informed,  in  the  seclusion  of  that 
domestic  life  which  is  common  to  man.  Nurtured  in  its  sweet 
simplicity,  he  learned  from  experience  the  trials  and  cares  of 
humanity  in  its  lowliest  condition. 

John,  forsaking  these  tranquil  scenes  of  domestic  life,  fled 
into  the  desert,  and,  in  the  most  dreary  solitudes,  prepared 
for  his  momentous  ministry.  The  last  of  the  prophets 
"  greater  was  not  born  of  women  than  he."  The  place  hp 
chose  for  his  preparation  was  one  of  desolate  grandeur.  The 
borders  of  the  desert  reached  the  barren,  verdureless  banks  of 
the  Dead  Sea.  All  signs  of  life  were  lost  in  a  region  appar- 
ently cursed  by  the  frown  of  God.  The  heavy  waters  of  the 
lake  lay  motionless,  and  the  mountains  of  Moab  rose  beyond 
aa  their  severe  and  rugged  sublimity. ' 

Yet  here  John  dwelt,  that  he  miglit  ponder  the  meaning  of 
.he  Scripture  prophecies,  so  as  to  be  able  to  expound  them  with 
power  when  the  time  should  come  for  him  to  address  the  peo- 
ple. Here  he  was  impressed  with  the  enormity  of  sin  against 
God,  and  the  hopelessness  of  the  sinner,  unless  a  higher  power 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JESUS.        23 

came  to  his  rescue.  Here  God  revealed  to  his  soul  the  doc- 
trine of  repeBtance  and  remission  of  sins  through  faith  in  an 
atoning  Saviour,  —  "  the  Lamb  slain  from  the  foundation  of  the 
world,"  —  the  Lamb  so  often  slain  in  symbolic  sacrifice,  but 
now  to  appear  and  sufier  in  his  own  sacred  person. 

When  the  time  of  preparation  was  completed,  the  word  of 
God  came  to  John,  summoning  him  to  his  work.  Emerging  from 
his  life  of  solitude,  he  traversed  all  the  country  round  about 
Jordan,  crying  out  in  trumpet-tones,  which  collected  thousands 
to  listen  to  him,  "  Repent  ye ;  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at 
hand.'*'  The  new  prophet,  humble  in  his  own  soul,  as  the  truly 
great  always  are,  disclaimed  all  title  to  the  Messiahship,  de- 
claring that  One  was  coming  mightier  than  he,  the  latchet  of 
whose  shoes  he  was  unworthy  to  unloose.  When  the  multi- 
tude, impressed  by  his  figure,  his  character,  and  his  words,  in- 
quired of  him,  "Art  thou  the  Christ?"  he  replied  emphati- 
cally, "  I  am  not."  —  "Art  thou  Elias,  then  ?"  was  the  continued 
query.  The  reply  was  equally  emphatic,  "  No."  —  "  Who  art 
thou,  then  ?  "  they  further  inquired.  Pie  replied,  "  I  am  the 
voice  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness.  Prepare  ye  the  way  of 
the  Lord  ;  make  his  paths  straight." 

A  leathern  girdle  encircled  the  loins  of  this  wonderful  man. 
His  frugal  fare  consisted  of  locusts  and  wild  honey.  John 
stood  by  the  River  Jordan,  baptizing  those  who  presented  them- 
selves for  the  rite.  Jesus,  then  about  thirty  years  of  age,  ap- 
peared among  them.  Since  his  twelfth  year,  no  act  of  his  had 
been  recorded.  But  now,  according  to  the  Jewish  idea  of 
maturity,  he  was  prepared  to  enter  upon  his  ministry.  John 
doubtless  had  not  seen  him  for  many  years.  Probably  he  had 
never  known  that  he  was  the  Christ.  But,  when  that  pure 
and  holy  One  came  to  be  baptized,  the  eyes  of  the  prophet 
were  opened,  and  he  hesitated,  saying,  "I  have  need  to  b« 
baptized  of  tliee ;  and  comest  thou  to  me  ?  "  But  Jesus  com- 
mands, and  John  performs  the  rite.  Then  the  faithful  prf>- 
phet  is  rewarded  by  seeing  the  heavens  opened,  and  the  Spi'.-it 
of  God  descending  like  a  dove,  and  lighting  upon  the  brow  of 
Jesus.     A  voice  at  the  same  time  was  heard  from  the  seiene 


24  BISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITY 

skies,  exclaiming  in  clear  utterance,  "This  is  my  belovea 
Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased." 

Then  John  was  filled  with  fulness  of  assured  joy,  as  he  says, 
"I  knew  him  not ;"  meaning,  of  course,  that,  before  the  per- 
formance of  the  rite,  he  had  not  known  Jesus  as  the  Messiah 
The  following  day,  John  pointed  out  Jesus  to  two  of  his  dis- 
ciples as  the  "  Lamb  ot  ^f»d,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of 
the  world." 

Soon  after  this  came  the  period  of  our  Lord's  temptation, 
over  which  our  hearts  are  moved  with  wonder  and  tender  com- 
passion. Son  of  God  as  he  was  in  his  spiritual  nature,  in  the 
humiliation  of  his  earthly  mission  he  had  also  become  Son 
of  man.  Sinless  from  his  birth,  the  taint  of  evil  had  never 
touched  his  pure  soul.  Yet  a  higher  nature  than  even  this 
was  necessary  before  he  could  redeem  the  people  from  their 
sins.  There  was  needed  in  his  human  nature  a  knowledge  of 
the  power  of  evil,  which  could  only  be  obtained  through  suf- 
fering its  temptations. 

How  else  could  he  truly  sympathize  with  and  succor  those 
who  are  tempted  ?  Oh  holy  mystery  of  the  temptation  of  the 
Son  of  God !  —  a  mystery  so  sacred  and  unfathomable,  that  we 
can  only  bow  our  hearts  in  adoration,  knowing  that  we  have 
now  a  high,  priest  who  can  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of 
our  infirmities,  —  one  who  "  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as 
we  are,  yet  without  sin." 

It  is  impossible  to  ascertain  with  certainty  the  chronology 
of  our  Saviour's  movements.  But,  following  that  which  is 
generally  most  approved,  we  infer  that  Jesus  returned  from  the 
temptation  in  the  wilderness  to  Nazareth,  where  he  sojourned 
for  a  short  time.  John  had  publicly  announced  Jesus  to  be 
the  Messiah,  in  the  words,  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which 
taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world ! "  Jesus  was  thus  declared  to 
be  the  atoning  Lamb,  which  for  so  many  centuries  had  been 
represented  by  the  sacrifices  offered  under  the  law. 

Among  the  crowd  who  had  flocked  to  the  wilderness  to  hear 
the  impassioned  preaching  of  John  there  were  two  fishermen, 
who  became    convinced    that    Jesus  was  the   long-promised 


CHILDHOOD  AND   EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JESUS.        25 

Christ.  The  first  of  these,  Andrew,  hastened  to  inform  his 
brother  Simon  Peter  that  he  had  found  the  Messiah.  These 
two  were  apparently  our  Saviour's  first  disciples.  Probably 
their  views  of  the  nature  of  his  mission  were  exceedingly 
vague.  They,  however,  attached  themselves  to  his  person,  and 
followed  him.  Jesus  received  them  kindly,  but  without  any 
parade.  At  the  first  glance  he  seems  to  have  comprehended 
the  marked  character  of  Simon  Peter ;  for  he  addressei  him 
in  language  in  some  degree  prophetic  of  his  future  career : 
"  Thou  art  Simon,  the  son  of  Jona :  thou  shalt  be  called 
Cephas ;  which  is,  by  interpretation,  a  stone."  Cephas  was 
the  Syriac  for  Peter. 

The  next  day  two  others  attached  themselves  to  Jesus,  — 
Philip  and  Nathanael.  Then,  as  now,  the  moment  one  became 
a  disciple  of  Jesus,  he  was  anxious  to  lead  others  to  him. 
Philip,  who  had  accepted  the  invitation  of  Christ  to  follow  him, 
sought  out  one  of  his  friends,  Nathanael,  and,  said  to  him, 
"  We  have  found  him  of  whom  Moses  in  the  law,  and  the 
prophets,  did  write,  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  son  of  Joseph." 
Nathanael  was  a  little  doubtful  whether  the  son  of  the  car- 
penter Joseph,  from  the  obscure  hamlet  of  Nazareth,  could  be 
the  heaven-commissioned  Messiah  for  whose  advent  the  pious 
Jews  had  been  praying  during  weary  centuries.  Incredulously 
he  inquired,  "  Can  any  good  thing  come  out  of  Nazareth  ?  " 
The  laconic  reply  of  Philip  was,  "  Come  and  see." 

It  appears  that  Nathanael  was  a  man  remarkable  for  his  up- 
right and  noble  character.  As  Jesus  saw  him  approaching,  he 
said  to  those  around  him,  "Behold  an  Israelite  indeed,  in 
whom  is  no  guile  !  "  Nathanael,  overhearing  the  remark,  in- 
quired of  him,  "  Whence  knowest  thou  me  ?  "  The  reply  of 
Jesus,  "  Before  that  Philip  called  thee,  when  thou  wast  under 
the  fig-tree,  I  saw  thee,"  —  thus  alluding  to  some  secret  event 
which  Nathanael  was  sure  no  mortal  could  know,  —  convinced 
him  of  the  supernatural  powers  of  Jesus ;  and  he  exclaimed  in 
fulness  of  faith,  "Rabbi,  thou  art  the  Son  of  God;  thou  art 
the  King  of  Israel !  " 

The  reply  of  Jesus  was  a  distinct  avowal  of  his  Messiahship: 


26  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

**  Because  I  said  unto  thee,  I  saw  thee  under  the  fig-tree, 
believest  thou  ?  Thou  shalt  see  greater  things  than  these. 
Hereafter  ye  shall  see  heaven  open,  and  the  angels  of  Grod 
ascending  and  descending  upon  the  Son  of  man." 

Jesus,  strengthened,  not  exhausted,  by  his  temptation  in  the 
wilderness,  returned  to  Nazareth.  In  the  mystery  of  his 
double  nature  as  Son  of  God  and  Son  of  man,  the  mission  of 
his  life  seems  now  to  have  been  fully  revealed  to  him.  H© 
then  commenced  preaching  his  gospel  of  penitence  for  sin,  faith 
in  him  as  a  Saviour,  and  a  holy  life. 

Not  with  words  of  denunciation  did  he  open  his  ministry. 
Tenderly  he  bore  with  the  doubts  and  questionings,  which  led 
many  to  hesitate  to  acknowledge  him  as  the  long-looked-for 
Messiah.  Sympathy  and  healing  for  body  and  soul  were  the 
first  messages  of  our  Lord.  The  hard,  stern  outlines  of  the 
Jewish  law  were  softened,  yes,  glorified,  by  the  spiritual  mean- 
ing infused  into  them  by  Jesus.  Sent  to  preach  the  gospel  to 
the  poor,  and  to  bind  up  the  broken-hearted,  he  addressed  the 
desponding  in  words  of  encouragement  and  cheer,  while  he  did 
not  abate  one  iota  of  the  integrity  and  authority  of  the  law. 

A  few  miles  north  of  Nazareth,  slumbering  among  the  hilla 
of  GaUlee,  was  the  little  village  of  Cana.  A  marriage  was 
celebrated  there  on  the  third  day  after  the  return  of  Jesus  from 
the  wilderness.  He  was  invited  to  the  wedding,  with  his 
mother  and  the  disciples  who  had  accompanied  him  to  Naza- 
reth. The  fame  of  Jesus  was  rapidly  extending,  and  the 
knowledge  of  his  expected  presence  probably  drew  an  unex- 
pected number  to  the  wedding.  Consequently,  the  wine,  sim- 
ple juice  of  the  grape,  usually  provided  on  such  occasions,  was 
found  to  be  insufficient.  The  mother  of  Jesus  informed  him 
with  some  solicitude  that  the  wine  was  falling  short.  It  would 
appear  that  he  had  anticipated  this ;  for  his  reply,  "  What  have 
I  to  do  with  thee  ?  mine  hour  is  not  yet  come,"  may  be  inter- 
preted, "  It  is  not  necessary  for  you,  mother,  to  be  anxious  about 
this  :  the  time  for  me  to  interpose  is  not  yet  come."  That 
time  soon  came,  —  probably  when  the  wine  was  entirely  ex- 
hausted.    The  anxious,  care-takingj  mother  understocd  this  to 


CHILDHOOD   AND  EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JESUS.        27 

mean  that  he  would,  at  the  proper  time,  provide  for  the  emer- 
gency ;  for  she  went  to  the  servants,  and  requested  them  to  do 
whatever  Jesus  should  ask  of  them. 

In  the  court-yard  there  were  six  stone  firkins,  or  jars,  about 
two-thirds  the  size  of  an  ordinary  barrel,  containing  about 
thirty  gallons  each.  Jesus  ordered  the  servants  to  fill  them  with 
water.  Surprised,  but  unhesitatingly  they  obeyed.  He  then 
directed  them  to  draw  from  those  firkins,  and  present  first  to 
the  governor  of  the  feast.  To  their  amazement,  pure  wine 
filled  their  goblets,  —  wine  which  the  governor  of  the  feast  de- 
clared to  be  of  remarkable  excellence.  This  was  the  first  mirar- 
cle  which  is  recorded  of  our  Saviour.  There  is  no  evidence 
that  there  was  the  slightest  intoxicating  quality  in  this  pure 
beverage  thus  prepared  for  the  wedding-guests. 

Soon  after  this,  Jesus  went  to  Capernaum,  a  thriving  sea- 
port town  upon  the  western  shores  of  the  Lake  of  Galilee, 
about  twelve  miles  north-east  of  Nazareth.  His  mother,  his 
brothers,  —  who  did  not  accept  his  Messiahship,  —  and  his  disci- 
ples, — we  know  not  how  many  in  number,  —  accompanied  him. 
We  have  no  record  of  his  doings  during  the  few  days  that  he 
remained  there.  As  the  feast  of  the  Passover  was  at  hand, 
Jesus  went  up  to  Jerusalem,  there  to  inaugurate  his  ministry 
in  the  midst  of  the  thousands  whom  the  sacred  festival  would 
summon  to  the  metropolis.  A  few  of  his  disciples  accom- 
panied him.  Their  journey  was  undoubtedly  made  on  foot,  a 
distance  of  about  a  hundred  miles. 

Upon  their  arrival,  Jesus  directed  his  steps  immediately  to 
the  temple,  probably  then  the  most  imposing  structure  in  the 
world.  The  sight  which  met  his  view  as  he  entered  the  outer 
court-yard  of  the  temple  with  his  humble  Galilean  followers 
excited  his  indignation.  The  sacred  edifice  had  been  perverted 
to  the  most  shameful  purposes  of  trafiic.  The  booths  of  the 
traders  lined  its  walls.  The  bleating  of  sheep  and  the  lowing 
of  oxen  resounded  through  its  enclosures.  The  litter  of  the 
stable  covered  its  tessellated  floors,  and  the  tables  of  money- 
'■^hangers  stood  by  the  side  of  the  magnificent  marble  pillars. 
The  din  of  traffic  filled  that  edifice  which  was  erected  for  the 
worship  of  God 


28  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Jesus,  in  the  simple  garb  of  a  Gralilean  peasant,  and  with- 
out any  badge  of  authority,  enters  this  tumultuous  throng. 
Picking  up  from  the  floor  a  few  of  the  twigs,  or  rushes,  he 
bound  them  together ;  and,  with  voice  and  gesture  of  authority 
whose  supernatural  power  no  man  could  resist,  "  he  drove  them 
all  out  of  the  temple,  and  the  sheep  and  the  oxen  ;  and  poured 
out  the  changers'  money,  and  overthrew  the  tables ;  and  said 
unto  them  that  sold  doves.  Take  these  things  hence :  make 
not  my  Father's  house  a  house  of  merchandise." 

No  one  ventured  any  resistance.  The  temple  was  cleared 
of  its  abominations.  There  must  have  been  a  more  than 
human  presence  in  the  eye  and  voice  of  this  Galilean  peasant, 
to  enable  him  thus,  in  the  proud  metropolis  of  Judaea,  to  drive 
the  traffickers  from  all  nations  in  a  panic  before  him,  while 
invested  with  no  governmental  power,  and  his  only  weapon 
consisting  of  a  handful  of  rushes  ;  for  this  seems  to  be  the 
proper  meaning  of  the  words  translated  "a  whip  of  small 
cords." 

The  temple  being  thus  cleared,  some  of  the  people  ventured 
to  ask  of  him  by  what  authority  he  performed  such  an  act. 
His  extraordinary  reply  was,  "  Destroy  this  temple,  and  in  three 
days  I  will  raise  it  up."  There  is  no  evidence  that  there  was 
any  thing  in  the  voice  or  gesture  of  Jesus  upon  this  occasion 
which  implied  that  he  did  not  refer  to  the  material  temple 
whose  massive  grandeur  rose  around  them.  It  is  certain  that 
his  interrogators  so  understood  him  :  for  they  replied,  "  Forty 
and  six  years  was  this  temple  in  building ;  and  wilt  thou  rear 
it  up  in  three  days  ?  " 

The  evangelist  John  adds,  "  But  he  spake  of  the  temple  of 
his  body."  We  have  no  intimation  that  Jesus  attempted  to 
rectiiy  the  error  into  which  they  had  fallen.  And  it  is  difti^ 
cult  to  assign  any  satisfactory  reason  why  he  should  have  left 
them  to  ponder  his  dark  saying.  Human  frailty  is  often  be- 
wildered in  the  attempt  to  explicate  infinite  wisdom. 

Probably  the  fame  of  Jesus  had  already  reached  Jerusa^ 
lem.  His  wonderful  achievement,  in  thus  cleansing  the  tem- 
ple, must  have  excited  universal  astonishment.      Many  wei-e 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JESUS.         29 

inclined  to  attach  themselves  to  him  as  a  great  prophet.  There 
was  at  that  time  residing  in  Jerusalem  a  man  of  much 
moral  worth,  by  the  name  of  Nicodemus.  He  was  rich,  was 
in  the  highest  circles  of  society,  a  teacher  of  the  Jewish  law, 
and  a  member  of  the  Sanhedrim,  the  supreme  council  of  the 
nation. 

He  sought  an  interview  with  Jesus  at  night,  that  he  might 
enjoy  uninterrupted  conversation,  or,  as  is  more  probable, 
because  he  had  not  sufficient  moral  courage  to  go  to  him 
openly.  In  the  following  words  he  announced  to  Jesus  his 
full  conviction  of  his  prophetic  character :  "  Rabbi,  we  know 
that  thou  art  a  teacher  come  from  God ;  for  no  man  can  do 
these  miracles  that  thou  doest  except  God  be  with  him." 

Jesus  did  not  wait  for  any  questions  to  be  asked.  With 
apparent  abruptness,  and  without  any  exchange  of  salutations, 
he  said  solemnly,  as  if  rebuking  the  assumption  that  he,  the 
Lamb  of  God,  had  come  to  the  world  merely  as  a  teacher, 
"  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee.  Except  a  man  be  born  again, 
he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God." 

Nicodemus  ought  to  have  understood  this  language.  The 
"  new  birth  "  was  no  new  term,  framed  now  for  the  first  time. 
The  proselytes  from  heathenism,  having  been  received  into 
the  Jewish  fold  by  circumcision  and  baptism,  in  token  of  the 
renewal  of  their  hearts,  were  said  to  be  "  born  again."  Jesus, 
adopting  this  perfectly  intelligible  language,  informed  Nicode- 
mus  that  it  was  not  by  intellectual  conviction  merely  that  one 
became  a  member  of  the  Messiah's  kingdom,  but  by  such  a  ren 
ovation  of  soul,  that  one  might  be  said  to  be  born  again, — old 
things  having  passed  away,  and  all  things  having  become  new. 
Nicodemus,  who  perhaps,  in  pharisaic  pride,  imagined  that 
he  had  attained  the  highest  stage  of  the  religious  life,  was  proba- 
bly a  little  irritated  in  being  told  that  he  needed  this  change 
of  heart  to  gain  admission  to  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  and,  in  his 
irritation,  allowed  himself  in  a  very  stupid  cavil.  "  How  can 
a  man,"  said  he,  "  be  born  when  he  is  old  ?  Can  he  enter  the 
second  time  into  his  mother's  womb,  and  bo  born  ?  " 

Jesus,  ever  calm,  did  not  heed  the  cavil,  but  simply  reiter- 


30  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

ated  his  declaration,  that  no  man  could  become  a  member  of 
the  kingdom  of  God,  unless,  renewed  in  tlie  spirit  of  his  mind, 
he  thus  became  a  partaker  of  the  divine  nature.  Nicodemus 
probably  assumed  that  he,  as  a  Jew,  would  be  entitled  by 
right  of  birth  to  membership  in  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah. 
When  a  Gentile  became  a  proselyte  to  the  Jewish  religion,  by 
the  rite  of  baptism  he  promised  to  renounce  idolatry,  to  wor- 
ship the  true  God,  and  to  live  in  conformity  with  the  divine 
law.  The  external  rite  gradually  began  to  assume  undue  im- 
portance. Our  Saviour,  in  announcing  to  Nicodemus  the 
doctrine  that  a  spiritual  regeneration  was  needful,  of  which 
the  application  of  water  in  baptism  was  merely  the  emblem, 
said,  "  Except  a  man  be  born  of  water  and  of  the  Spirit,  he 
cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  That  which  is  born 
of  the  flesh  is  flesh,"  —  is  corrupt :  "  that  which  is  born  of 
the  Spirit  is  spirit,"  —  is  pure.  "  Marvel  not  that  I  said  unto 
thee.  Ye  must  be  born  again." 

And  then,  in  reply  to  queries  which  he  foresaw  were  rising 
in  the  mind  of  Nicodemus,  he  continued :  "  The  wind  bloweth 
where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof,  but  canst 
not  tell  whence  it  cometh,  and  whither  it  goeth :  so  is  every 
one  that  is  born  of  the  Spirit."  This  sublime  truth  is  thus 
enunciated  without  any  attempt  at  explanation.  Why  is  one 
man  led  by  the  Holy  Spirit  to  the  Saviour,  while  another,  cer- 
tainly no  less  deserving,  is  not?  This  question  has  been 
asked  through  all  the  ages,  but  never  answered.  Where  la 
the  Christian  who  has  not  often  said,  — 

"  Why  was  I  made  to  hear  thy  voice, 
And  enter  while  there's  room, 
When  thousands  make  a  wretched  choice, 
And  rather  starve  than  come  ?  " 

Infinitely  momentous  as  are  these  truths,  they  are  the  most 
eimple  truths  in  nature.  Nothing  can  be  more  obvious  to  an 
observing  and  reflective  man  than  that  a  thorough  renovation 
of  spirit  is  essential  to  prepare  mankind  for  the  society  of 
spotless  angels  and  for  the  worship  of  heaven.     This   is  one 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JESUS.        31 

of  the  most  simple  and  rudimental  of  moral  truths.  And 
when  Nicodemus,  with  the  spirit  of  cavil  still  lingering  in  his 
mind,  allowed  himself  to  say,  "How  can  these  things  be?" 
Jesus  gently  rebuked  him,  saying,  "Art  thou  a  master  of 
Israel,  and  knowest  not  these  things?  If  I  have  told  yon 
earthly  things,"  —  the  simplest  truths  of  religion,  obvious  to 
every  thoughtful  man,  —  "and  ye  believe  not,  how  shall  ye  be- 
lieve if  I  tell  you  of  heavenly  things  ?  "  —  the  sublime  truths 
which  can  only  be  known  by  direct  revelation. 

Jesus  then  proceeds  from  the  simple  doctrine  of  regeneration 
to  the  sublimer  theme  of  an  atoning  Saviour,  —  a  theme  the 
most  wonderful  wnich  the  mind  of  man  or  angel  can  contem- 
plate. There  cannot  be  found  in  all  the  volumes  of  earth  a 
passage  so  fall  of  meaning,  in  import  so  stupendous,  as  the  few 
words  which  then  came  from  the  Saviour's  lips.  It  was  the 
distinct  and  emphatic  announcement  of  the  plan  of  salvation 
devised  by  a  loving  Father  in  giving  his  Son  to  die  upon  the 
cross,  in  making  atonement  for  the  sins  of  the  world. 

"No  man  hath  ascended  up  to  heaven  but  he  that  came 
down  from  heaven ;  even  the  Sou  of  man,  which  is  in  heaven. 
And  as  Moses  lifted  up  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness,  even  so 
must  the  Son  of  man  be  lifted  up;  that  whosoever  believeth 
in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  eternal  life.  For  God 
30  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only-begotten  Son,  that 
whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  ever- 
lasting life.  For  God  sent  not  his  Son  into  the  world  to 
condemn  the  world,  but  that  the  world  through  him  might  be 
saved.  He  that  believeth  on  him  is  not  condemned  ;  but  he 
that  believeth  not  is  condemned  already,  because  he  hath  not 
believed  in  the  name  of  the  only-begotten  Son  of  God.  And 
this  is  the  condemnation,  that  light  is  come  into  the  world, 
and  men  loved  darkness  rather  than  light,  because  their  deeds 
were  evil.  For  every  one  that  doeth  evil  hateth  tbe  light, 
neither  cometh  to  the  light,  lest  his  deeds  should  be  reproved ; 
but  he  that  doeth  truth  cometh  to  the  light,  that  his  deeds 
may  be  made  manifest  that  they  are  wrought  in  God." 

It  does  not  appear  that  even  this  enunciation  from  the  lips 


32  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY 

of  Jesus,  of  the  sublime  doctrines  of  regeneration  and  atone 
ment,  produced  any  immediate  result  upon  the  heart  of  Nicode- 
mus.  That  they  produced  a  deep  impression  upon  his  mind 
cannot  be  doubted.  Not  long  after,  when  there  was  intense 
commotion  in  Jerusalem  in  consequence  of  the  teachings  of 
Jesus,  Nicodemus  summoned  sufficient  moral  courage  to  speak 
one  word  in  his  defence,  "  Doth  our  law,"  said  he,  "judge  any 
man  before  it  hear  him  and  know  what  he  doeth  ?  "  But  he 
fleems  to  have  been  effectually  silenced  by  the  stern  rebuff,  "  Art 
thou  also  of  Galilee  ?  "  We  hear  no  more  of  this  timid  man, 
until  after  the  lapse  of  three  years,  when  Jesus  had  perished 
upon  the  cross,  Nicodemus  brought  to  Joseph  of  Arimathea 
some  spices  to  embalm  the  body.  This,  also,  he  probably  did 
secretly  and  by  night.  How  contemptible  does  such  a  char- 
acter appear  —  one  too  cowardly  to  live  according  to  its  own 
convictions  of  duty  —  when  contrasted  with  such  men  as 
Abraliam,  Noah,  Daniel,  and  Paul !  And  yet  there  is  many 
a  Nicodemus  in  almost  every  village  in  our  land. 

Soon  after  this,  Jesus  left  Jerusalem,  and  went  into  the  rural 
districts  of  Judaea,  where  he  preached  his  gospel,  and  his  disci- 
ples baptized,  and  by  this  rite  received  to  the  general  Church 
such  as  became  converts.  John  the  Baptist  was  then  preaching 
to  large  assemblies  in  Samaria,  in  a  place  called  ^non,  about 
twenty  miles  west  of  the  River  Jordan,  and  about  sixty  mUes 
north  from  Jerusalem.  This  place,  though  among  the  hills, 
was  well  watered  with  springs  and  streams,  and  thus  well 
adapted  for  the  vast  numbers  who  gathered  to  hear  this  re- 
nowned preacher. 

Jesus  and  his  disciples  weie  in  Judaea,  in  the  vicinity  of 
Jerusalem,  probably  about  forty  miles  south  of  John.  Some 
of  the  zealous  disciples  of  John  became  annoyed  in  hearing 
that  larger  crowds  were  flocking  to  Jesus  than  to  him ;  that 
Jesui  was  making  many  converts,  and  that  his  disciples  were 
actually  baptizing  more  than  were  the  disciples  of  John.  But 
the  illustrious  prophet  did  not  share  in  their  feelings  of  envy. 
In  words  worthy  of  his  noble  character  he  replied,  — 

"Ye  yourselves  bear  me  witness  that   f  said  I  am  not  the 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JESU&.         33 

Christ,  but  that  I  am  sent  before  him.  He  must  increase ; 
Dut  I  must  decrease.  He  tliat  cometh  from  above  is  above 
all;  for  he  whom  God  hath  sent  speaketh  the  words  of  God. 
The  Father  loveth  the  Sou,  and  hath  given  all  things  into  his 
hand.  He  that  believeth  on  the  Son  hath  everlasting  life ; 
and  he  that  believeth  not  the  Son  shall  not  see  life,  but  the 
wrath  of  God  abideth  on  him." 

Jesus,  being  informed  of  the  spirit  of  rivalry  which  exii^ted 
on  the  part  of  John's  disciples,  decided  to  withdraw  from  that 
region,  and  return  to  Galilee.  His  direct  route  led  through 
the  central  district  of  Samaria.  There  was  a  bitter  feud  be- 
tween the  inhabitants  of  Judaea  and  Samaria,  so  that  there 
was  but  little  social  intercourse  or  traffic  between  them.  The 
road  led  first  over  barren  plains  as  far  as  Bethel ;  then  traversed 
a  region  of  undulating  hills  smiling  with  verdure,  till  it  be- 
came lost  in  a  winding  mountain-pass  quite  densely  wooded. 
On  the  third  day  of  the  journey,  Jesus,  toiling  on  foot  beneath 
the  scorching  sun  of  Syria,  reached  Sychar,  in  the  heart  of 
Samaria.  About  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the  village,  at  the 
foot  of  Mount  Gerizim,  there  was  a  celebrated  well,  which 
the  patriarch  Jacob  had  dug  several  centuries  before.  Jesus 
sat  down  by  the  well  to  rest,  while  his  disciples,  who  accom- 
panied him,  went  into  the  village  to  purchase  some  food. 
While  seated  there  alone,  a  Samaritan  woman  came  to  draw 
water.  Jesus  said  to  her,  "  Give  me  to  drink."  His  dress 
and  language  indicated  that  he  was  a  Jew. 

The  woman  replied,  "  How  is  it  that  thou,  being  a  Jew, 
askest  dr'nk  of  me,  which  am  a  woman  of  Samaria  ?  " 

"  If  thou  knewest,"  said  Jesus,  "the  gift  of. God,  and  who 
't  is  that  saith  to  thee.  Give  me  to  drink,  thou  wouldest  have 
asked  of  him,  and  he  would  have  given  thee  living  water." 

To  this  enigmatical  reply,  which  evidently  aroused  the  at- 
tention of  the  woman,  she  rejoined,  "  Thou  hast  nothing  to 
draw  with,  and  the  well  is  deep.  From  whence,  then,  hast  thou 
that  living  water  ?  Art  thou  greater  than  our  father  Jacob, 
which  gave  us  the  well,  and  drank  thereof  himself,  and  hia 
children  and  his  cattle  ?  " 


54  HISTORY  OF   CHRISTIANITY. 

Again  Jesus  replied  in  enigmatical  language,  "  Whosoever 
drinketh  of  this  water  shall  thirst  again :  hut  whosoever 
drinketh  of  the  water  that  I  shall  give  him  shall  never  thirst ; 
but  the  water  that  I  shall  give  him  shall  be  in  him  a  well  of 
water  springing  up  into  everlasting  life." 

The  woman,  bewildered,  and  with  excited  curiosity,  said, 
"  Sir,  give  me  this  water,  that  I  thirst  not,  neither  come  hither 
to  draw." 

"  Go,  call  thy  husband,"  said  Jesus,  "  and  come  hither." 

The  woman,  conscience-smitten,  and  somewhat  alarmed  by 
the  mysterious  nature  of  the  conversation,  answered,  "  I  hare 
no  husband." 

The  startling  response  of  Jesus  was,  "  Thou  hast  well  said, 
I  have  no  husband :  for  thou  hast  had  five  husbands ;  and 
he  whom  thou  now  hast  is  not  thy  husband.  In  that  saidst 
thou  truly." 

The  woman,  alarmed,  and  anxious  to  withdraw  the  conver- 
sation from  her  own  sins  and  personal  duty,  sought,  as  half-, 
awakened  sinners  have  ever  endeavored  to  do  from  that  day 
to  this,  to  change  the  theme  into  a  theological  discussion. 

"  Sir,"  she  said,  "  I  perceive  that  thou  art  a  prophet.  Our 
fathers  worshipped  in  this  mountain;  and  ye  say  that  in 
Jerusalem  is  the  place  where  men  ought  to  worship." 

This  question  was  a  standing  controversy  between  the  Jews 
and  the  Samaritans.  "  Believe  me,"  Jesus  replied,  "  the  hour 
Cometh  when  ye  shall  neither  in  this  mountain,  nor  yet  at 
Jerusalem,  worship  the  Father.  Ye  worship  ye  know  not  what : 
we  know  wha,t  we  worship ;  for  salvation  is  of  the  Jews.  But 
the  hour  cometh,  and  now  is,  when  the  true  worshippers  shaU 
worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth ;  for  the  Father 
seeketh  such  to  worship  him.  God  is  a  Spirit ;  and  they  that 
worship  him  must  worship  him  in  spirit  and  in  truth.'" 

The  Samaritans  rejected  the  prophets,  and  received  only  the 
five  books  of  Moses.  Jesus  therefore  announced  that  the  Jew- 
ish, not  the  Samaritan  faith,  was  the  true  religion ;  while  at 
the  same  time  he  declared  that  external  forms  were  important 
only  as  they  promoted  and  indicated  holiness  of  heart. 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JESU&         35 

The  woman  replied,  "  I  know  that  Messias  cometh,  which 
is  called  Christ.     When  he  is  come,  he  will  tell  us  all  things." 

Her  astonishment  must  have  been  great  when  Jesus  re- 
joined, "  I  that  speak  unto  thee  am  he." 

The  conversation  was  here,  interrupted  by  the  return  of  the 
disciples  who  had  gone  into  the  village.  Though  surprised  in 
seeing  Jesus  engaged  in  earnest  conversation  with  the  Samar- 
itan woman,  they  asked  him  no  questions  upon  the  subject ; 
but  the  woman,  so  agitated  that  she  forgot  to  take  her  water- 
pot  with  her,  hurried  back  to  the  village,  saying  to  her  friends 
m  language  somewhat  exaggerated,  "  Come  see  a  man  which 
told  me  all  things  that  ever  I  did.     Is  not  this  the  Christ  ?  " 

Quite  a  crowd  of  Samaritans  were  soon  gathered  around  the 
weU.  In  the  mean  time,  the  disciples  besought  Jesus  to  par- 
take of  the  refreshments  which  they  had  brought  from  the 
village.     His  remarkable  reply  was,  — 

"  I  have  meat  to  eat  that  ye  know  not  of.  My  meat " 
(the  great  object  of  my  life)  "  is  to  do  the  will  of  Him  that 
sent  me,  and  to  finish  his  work.  Say  not  ye,  There  are  yet 
four  months,  and  then  cometh  harvest  ?  Behold,  I  say  unto 
you,  Lift  up  your  eyes,  and  look  on  the  fields ;  for  they  are 
white  already  to  harvest.  And  he  that  reapeth  receiveth  wages, 
and  gathereth  fruit  unto  life  eternal,  that  both  he  that  soweth  and 
he  that  reapeth  may  rejoice  together.  And  herein  is  that  say- 
ing true.  One  soweth,  and  another  reapeth.  I  sent  you  to  reap 
that  whereon  ye  bestowed  no  labor :  other  men  labored,  and  ye 
have  entered  into  their  labors." 

It  is  probable  that  Jesus  went  from  the  well  into  the  village 
or  city  of  Sychar ;  for  he  continued  in  that  region  for  two  days, 
preaching  the  glad  tidings  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  The  re- 
sult was,  that  many  more  believed,  and  said  unto  the  woman, 
"Now  we  believe,  not  because  of  thy  saying;  for  we  have 
heard  him  ourselves,  and  know  that  this  is  indeed  the  Christ, 
the  Saviour  of  the  world." 

Continuing  his  journey,  Jesus  proceeded  still  northward 
to  Galilee.  The  fame  of  his  words  and  of  his  works  was 
spreading  far  and  wide.     As  he  travelled,  he  entered  the  syna- 


36  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

gogues  of  the  villages,  ar/l  preached  his  gospel  probably  to 
large  crowds.  Popularity  accompanied  his  steps ;  for.  we  are 
informed  by  the  sacred  historian,  "he  taught  in  their  syna- 
gogues, being  glorified  of  all." 

Upon  reaching  the  province  of  Galilee,  he  repaired  to  Cana, 
where  his  first  miracle  was  performed.  His  name  was  now 
upon  all  lips ;  and,  wherever  he  appeared,  crowds  were  attracted. 
About  twelve  miles  north-east  from  Cana,  upon  the  shores  of 
the  Lake  of  Galilee,  was  the  city  of  Capernaum.  A  noble- 
man there,  of  high  official  rank,  had  a  son  dangerously  sick. 
Hearing  of  the  arrival  of  Jesus  in  Cana,  and  fully  con- 
vinced of  his  miraculous  powers,  he  hastened  to  him,  and  en- 
treated him  to  come  down  and  heal  his  son.  Immediately  upon 
the  application  of  the  nobleman,  appreciating  the  faith  he  thus 
exhibited,  he  said,  "  Go  thy  way :  thy  son  liveth."  Apparent- 
ly untroubled  with  any  incredulity,  the  nobleman  set  out  C2 
his  return.  Meeting  servants  by  the  way,  they  informed  him 
that  his  son  was  recovering.  Upon  inquiry,  he  learned  that 
his  convalescence  commenced  apparently  at  the  very  moment 
in  which  Jesus  assured  him  of  his  safety.  In  consequence 
of  this  second  miracle  in  Galilee,  the  nobleman  and  aU  his 
family  became  disciples  of  Jesus. 

From  Cana,  Jesus  went  to  the  home  of  his  childhood  and 
youth,  in  Nazareth,  which  was  but  a  few  miles  south  of  Cana. 
It  is  probable  that  his  reputed  father,  Joseph,  was  dead,  as  we 
have  no  subsequent  allusion  to  him ;  and  that  there  was  no 
home  in  Nazareth  to  welcome  the  wanderer.  Upon  the  sabbath 
day,  according  to  his  custom,  he  repaired  to  the  synagogue. 
Taking  the  Bible,  he  opened  to  the  sixty-first  chapter  of  Isaiah, 
and  read  those  prophetic  words  of  the  promised  Messiah  which 
had  been  written  nearly  seven  hundred  years  before :  — 

"  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  God  is  upon  me,  because  the  Lord 
hath  anointed  me  to  preach  good  tidings  unto  the  meek :  he 
hath  sent  me  to  bind  up  the  broken-hearted,  to  proclaim  liberty 
to  the  captives,  and  the  opening  of  the  prison  to  them  that  are 
bound ;  to  proclaim  the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord." 

He  closed  the  book,  returned  it  to  the  officiating  ministei, 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JESUS.         37 

and  sat  down  upon  the  raised  seat  from  which  it  was  custom- 
ary for  the  Jewish  speakers  to  address  the  audience.  The 
eyes  of  all  were  fastened  upon  him. 

"  This  day,"  said  Jesus,  "  is  this  scripture  fulfilled  in  youi 
ears."  It  was  universally  understood  that  this  passage  from 
the  prophet  referred  to  the  Messiah.  Thus  he  solemnly  an- 
nounced to  hia  astonished  fellow-citizens  of  Nazareth  that  he 
was  the  Son  of  God,  whose  coming  the  pious  Jews  had, 
through  so  many  centuries,  been  expecting  It  is  evident 
that  the  tidings  of  bis  career  were  already  creating  great 
excitement  in  Nazareth. 

"  All  bare  witness,"  writes  the  inspired  historian,  "  and 
wondered  at  the  gracious  words  which  proceeded  out  of  hi? 
mouth.     And  they  said,  Is  not  this  Joseph's  son  ? 

"  And  he  said  unto  them,  Ye  will  surely  say  unto  me  this 
proverb,  Physician,  heal  thyself:  whatsoever  we  have  heard 
done  in  Capernaum,  do  also  here  in  thy  country.  And  he 
said,  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  No  prophet  is  accepted  in  his  own 
country.  But  I  tell  you  of  a  truth,  many  widows  were  in 
Israel  in  the  days  of  Elias,  when  the  heaven  was  shut  up  three 
years  and  six  months,  when  great  famine  was  throughout  all 
the  land ;  but  unto  none  of  them  was  Elias  sent,  save  unto 
Sarepta,  a  city  of  Sidon "  (a  Gentile  city),  "  unto  a  woman 
that  was  a  widow"  (a  Gentile  woman).  "And  many  lepers 
were  in  Israel  in  the  time  of  Eliseus  the  prophet ;  and  none 
of  them  was  cleansed  saving  Naaman  the  Syrian." 

This  declaration,  that  God  regarded  Gentiles  as  well  as  Jews 
with  his  parental  favor,  roused  their  indignation.  The  inspired 
historian  records,  "And  all  they  in  the  synagogue,  when  they 
heard  these  things,  were  filled  with  wrath,  and  rose  up,  and 
thrust  him  out  of  the  city,  and  led  him  unto  the  brow  of  the 
hill  whereon  their  city  was  built,  that  they  might  cast  him 
down  headlong;  but  he,  passing  through  the  midst  of  them, 
went  his  way." 

It  is  not  known  whether  a  miracle  was  performed  at  this 
time  to  disarm  the  mob,  or  whether  the  infuriated  populace  were 
overawed  by  the  natural  dignity  of  his  demeanor,  and  by  the 


38  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

flacredness  which  began  to  be  attached  to  his  person  as  the 
reputed  Messiah.  It  was  a  case  similar  to  that  which  occurred 
when  he  cleansed  the  temple. 

Jesus,  upon  this  occasion,  took  his  text  from  the  Bible,  and 
commented  upon  it.  The  text  and  a  few  of  his  remarks  have 
been  alone  transmitted  to  us.  There  is  a  rocky  cliff  which 
extends  for  some  distance  along  the  hill  on  which  Nazareth  is 
built,  which  is  still  thirty  or  forty  feet  high,  notwithstanding  the 
accumulated  debris  of  eighteen  centuries,  which  was  undoubt- 
edly the  scene  of  this  transaction. 

John  the  Baptist  was  now  cast  into  prison.  His  work  as 
the  forerunner  of  Christ  was  accomplished.  Eight  months  of 
our  Lord's  ministry  had  passed  away.  On  the  eastern  shore 
of  the  Dead  Sea  there  was  an  immense  fortress  called  Ma- 
chaerus.  Built  on  a  crag,  surrounded  by  gloomy  ravines,  and 
strengthened  by  the  most  formidable  works  of  military  engine- 
ry then  knovni,  it  was  deemed  impregnable.  Here  the  des- 
pot Herod  had  shut  up  John  the  Baptist  as  a  prisoner. 
Weary  months  rolled  away  as  the  impetuous  spirit  of  the 
prophet  beat  unavailingly  against  the  bars  of  his  prison. 
Though  a  prophet,  the  whole  mystery  of  the  Messiah's  king- 
dom had  not  been  revealed  to  him.  With  great  solicitude, 
apparently  with  many  doubts  and  fears,  he  watched  the  career 
of  Jesus,  so  inexplicable  to  human  wisdom. 

Jesus,  rejected  with  insult  and  outrage  by  the  people  of  Naz 
».reth,  repaired  to  Capernaum,  on  the  shores  of  the  lake.  This 
body  of  water,  so  renowned  in  the  life  of  Jesus,  is  the  only 
sea  referred  to  in  the  gospel  history.  It  is  alike  called  the 
"  Sea  of  Galilee,"  the  "  Sea  of  Tiberias,"  and  "  Lake  Gennes- 
aret."  In  Capernaum  he  took  up  his  residence  for  a  time, 
"  preaching  the  gospel  of  the  kingdom  of  God ; "  that  is,  preach- 
ing the  glad  tidings  of  full  and  free  remission  of  sins  through 
faith  in  him  as  the  Messiah,  and  his  coming  kingdom.  "  The 
time,"  said  he,  predicted  by  the  prophets,  "  is  fulfilled,  and  the 
kingdom  of  God  is  at  hand.  Repent  ye,  and  believe  the  gos- 
pel." ^ 

»  Mark  i    15 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EARLY  MINISTRT  OF  JESUS.       39 

Walking  one  day  on  the  shores  of  the  lake,  he  met  Simon 
Peter  and  his  brother  Andrew,  engaged  in  their  occupation  as 
fishermen.  It  will  be  remembered  that  they  had  met  Jesus 
before,  at  the  time  of  his  baptism  by  John,  and  haxi  become 
convinced  that  he  was  the  Messiah.  On  some  of  his  journey- 
ings  they  had  accompanied  him.  But  they  had  not,  as  yet, 
permanently  attached  themselves  to  his  person.  He  said  to 
them,  "  Follow  me,  and  I  will  make  you  fishers  of  men." 
Their  unwavering  faith  in  him  is  manifest  from  the  fact,  that 
leaving  their  boat  and  their  net,  and  their  earthly  all,  in  their 
humblB  garb  of  fishermen  they  followed  him. 

Continuing  the  walk  along  the  water's  edge,  they  met 
two  other  young  fishermen,  also  brothers,  James  and  John. 
They  were  sitting  upon  the  shore  with  their  father  Zebedee, 
mendicg  their  net.  Jesus  called  them  also  to  follow  him; 
which  they  promptly  did,  leaving  their  father  behind  them. 
Jesus  had  selected  them  to  be  preachers  of  his  gospel;  and 
they  were  to  be  with  him,  that,  listening  to  his  addresses,  they 
might  learn  the  doctrines  which  they  were  to  preach. 

Accompanied  by  these  four  disciples,  Jesus  returned  into  the 
city  of  Capernaum ;  and  probably  the  next  day,  it  being  the 
sabbath,  he  entered  the  synagogue,  and  addressed  the  people. 
We  have  no  record  of  his  address.  Mark  simply  informs  us 
that  he  "  taught;  and  they  were  astonished  at  his  doctrine  ;  for 
he  taught  them  as  one  that  had  authority,  and  not  as  the 
scribes."  ^     Luke  says,  "  His  word  was  with  power."  ^ 

Among  the  crowd  assembled  there  was  a  man  possessed  of 
a  devil.  He  startled  the  whole  assembly  by  shouting  out, 
"  Let  us  alone  !  What  have  we  to  do  with  thee,  thou  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  ?  Art  thou  come  to  destroy  us  ?  I  know  thee 
whom  thou  art,  the  Holy  One  of  God." 

"  Accepting,  with  whatever  mystery  the  whole  subject  of 
demoniac  possession  is  clothed,  the  simple  account  of  the 
evangelists,  it  does  appear  most  wonderful,  —  the  quick  intel- 
ligence, the  wild  alarm,  the  terror-stricken  faith,  that  then  per- 
vaded the  demon  world,  as  if  all  the  spirits  of  hell  who  had 

»  Mark  i.  22.  «  Luke  Iv.  32. 


40  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

been  suffered  to  make  human  bodies  their  habitation  gre\f 
pale  at  the  very  presence  of  Jesus,  and  could  not  but  cry  out 
in  the  extremity  of  their  despair."  ^ 

Jesus  turned  his  mild,  commanding  eye  upon  the  demoniac, 
and  calmly  said,  "  Hold  thy  peace,  and  come  out  of  him."  The 
foul  spirit  threw  the  man  to  the  ground,  tore  him  with  coutuI- 
sions,  and,  uttering  a  loud,  inarticulate,  fiendlike  cry,  departed. 
The  man  rose  to  his  feet,  serene  and  happy,  conversing  with 
his  friends  in  his  right  mind.  All  were  seized  with  amazement. 
The  strange  tidings  ran  through  the  streets  of  the  city.  The 
fame  of  such  marvels  spread  rapidly  far  and  wide.  "  What  new 
thing  is  this  ?  "  was  the  general  exclamation ;  "  for  with  author- 
ity he  commandeth  the  unclean  spirits,  and  they  do  obey  him." 

The  mother  of  Simon  Peter's  wife  was  taken  sick  with  a 
violent  fever.  Jesus,  being  informed  of  it,  visited  her  bedside, 
took  her  gently  by  the  hand,  and  rebuked  the  fever.  The  dis- 
ease, as  obedient  to  his  command  as  was  the  foul  spirit,  imme- 
diately left  the  sufferer.  The  cure  was  instantaneous  and 
complete.  She  arose  from  her  couch,  and  returned  at  once  to 
her  household  duties. 

It  is  difficult  to  imagine  the  excitement  which  these  events 
must  have  produced.  Upon  the  evening  of  that  memorable 
day,  the  region  around  the  house  was  thronged  with  the  mul- 
titude, bringing  unto  him  aU  that  were  sick  with  divers  dis- 
eases. "And  he  laid  his  hands  on  every  one  of  them,  and 
healed  them.  And  devils  also  came  out  of  many,  crying  out, 
and  saying,  Thou  art  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  And  he,  re- 
buking them,  suffered  them  not  to  speak;  for  they  knew  that 
he  was  Christ."  ^ 

It  is  impossible  for  us  to  comprehend  the  nature  of  the 
union  of  God  and  man  in  the  person  of  Jesus.  The  sacred 
historian,  in  announcing  that  God  "was  made  flesh  and  dwelt 
among  us,"  makes  no  attempt  to  solve  this  mystery.  But  it 
seems  that  Jesus,  though  possessed  of  these  miraculous  pow- 
ers, was  so  exhausted  by  the  labors  and  excitements  of  the 

>  Life  of  Clirist  by  William  Hanna,  D.D.,  p.  198. 
«  Luke  iv.  40 


CHILDHOOD  AND   EARLY  MINISTRY  OF  JEHUS.        41 

day,  that,  long  before  the  dawn  of  the  morning,  he  rose  from 
his  bed,  and,  leaving  the  slumbering  city  behind  him,  retired 
to  a  solitary  place,  where,  fanned  by  the  cool  breeze  of  tha 
mountain  and  of  the  lake,  he  spent  long  hours  in  prayer. 

Peter  and  his  companions,  when  they  rose  in  the  morning, 
missed  Jesus.  It  was  not  until  after  a  considerable  search 
that  he  was  found  in  his  retreat.  They  informed  him  of  the 
great  excitement  which  pervaded  the  city,  and  that  the  people 
were  looking  for  him  in  all  directions.  But  Jesus,  instead  of 
returning  to  Capernaum  to  receive  the  adulation  which  await- 
ed him  there,  said,  "  Let  us  go  into  the  next  towns,  that  I  may 
preach  there  also.  I  must  preach  the  kingdom  of  God  to 
ether  cities ;  for  therefore  came  I  forth." 

In  the  mean  time,  some  of  the  people  had  found  him ; 
fflid  they  began  to  gather  around  him  in  large  numbers.  They 
entreated  him  to  return  to  the  city,  and  take  up  his  residence 
with  them ;  but  he  declined,  and  at  once  entered  upon  a  labo- 
rious tour  through  the  cities  and  villages  of  Galilee,  "  teach- 
ing in  their  synagogues,  and  preaching  the  gospel  of  the 
kingdom,  and  healing  all  manner  of  sicknesses  and  all  manner 
of  diseases  among  the  people." 

Though  these  deeds  were  done  in  Galilee,  the  extreme 
northern  province  of  Syria,  still  the  fame  of  them  spread 
rapidly  through  the  whole  country.  "And  they  brought  unto 
him  aU  sick  people  that  were  taken  with  divers  diseases  and 
torments,  and  those  which  were  possessed  with  devils,  and  those 
which  were  lunatic,  and  those  that  had  the  palsy ;  and  he 
healed  them.  And  there  followed  him  great  multitudes  of 
people  from  Galilee,  and  from  Decapolis,  and  from  Jerusalem, 
and  from  beyond  Jordan." 

Galilee  was  at  that  time  very  densely  inhabited  by  an  ener- 
getic and  bustling  population  of  about  three  millions.  It  was 
about  sixty  miles  in  length,  and  forty  in  breadth  ;  containing, 
according  to  Josephus,  two  hundred  and  four  towns  and  vil- 
lages, whose  average  population  was  fifteen  thousand.  Through 
this  region,  Jesus,  accompanied  by  a  few  of  his  disciples, 
entered  upon  a  pedestrian  tour.     The  lake  was  thirteen  miles 


42  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

long,  and  six  broad.  Its  shores  were  dotted  with  villages  lux- 
uriant in  culture,  and  the  waters  of  the  lake  were  covered 
with  the  boats  of  fishermen. 

Now  all  is  silent  there,  lonely  and  most  desolate.  Till  last 
year,  but  a  single  boat  floated  upon  its  waters.  On  its  shores, 
Tiberias  in  ruins,  and  Magdala,  composed  of  a  few  wretched 
hovels,  are  all  that  remain.  You  may  ride  round  and  round 
the  empty  beach,  and,  these  excepted,  never  meet  a  human 
being,  nor  pass  a  human  habitation.  Capernaum,  Chorazin, 
Bethsaida,  are  gone.  Here  and  there  you  stumble  over  ruins ; 
but  none  can  teU  you  exactly  what  they  were.  They  knew 
not,  those  cities  of  the  lake,  the  day  of  their  visitation.  Their 
names  and  their  memory  have  perished. 

The  number  of  sick  people  whom  Jesus  healed  on  this  cir- 
cuit must  have  been  immense;  for  he  traversed  a  wide  and 
populous  region,  and  patients  were  brought  to  him  from  great 
distances ;  and  he  healed  them  aU.  One  cannot  but  regret 
that  we  have  no  minute  record  of  the  events  which  transpired 
and  of  the  addresses  which  Jesus  made  on  this  missionary 
excursion,  which  commenced,  it  is  supposed,  in  June,  and  was 
closed  early  in  October. 


chaptp:r  II. 


TOUR   THROUGH    GAT.ILEE. 


The  Horns  of  Ilattln. — The  Sermon  on  the  Mount.— Jesus  goes  to  Capernaum. 
—The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes.- Kealing  the  Leper,  the  Paralytic- 
Associates  with  Publicaus  and  Sinners. — The  Feast  of  the  Passover.— The 
Cripple  at  the  Pool.— The  Equality  of  the  Son  with  the  Father.— Healing  the 
Withered  Hand.— Anger  of  the  Pharisees.— The  Twelve  Apostles  choEcn.- 
Inquiry  of  John  the  Baptist.— Jesus  dines  with  a  Pharisee.— The  Anoint- 
ment.—Journey  through  Galilee.— Stilling  the  Tempest.— The  Demoniacs 
and  the  Swine.— The  Daughter  of  Jairus — Restores  Sight  to  the  Blind. — 
Address  to  his  Disciples. 


(iBOUT  seven  miles  south  of  Capernaum  there  was 
a  double-peaked  eminence,  fift^'  or  sixtj'  feet  high, 
which  commanded  a  charming  view  of  the  Valley 
^of  Gennesaret.  These  peaks  were  called  the 
.Horns  of  Ilattin,  from  the  village  of  Ilattin, 
j'situated  at  the  base  of  the  hill.  As  Jesus,  upon 
his  return  from  his  first  circuit  through  Galilee, 
approached  Capernaum,  when  the  throng  which  accompanied 
him,  or  flocked  out  of  the  city  to  meet  him,  had  become  im- 
mense, he  probably  ascended  this  hill,  from  which  he  could 
easily  address  them.  For  ages  it  has  been  called,  on  that 
supposition,  the  "Hill  of  the  Beatitudes." 

It  must  have  presented  a  charming  scene.  The  smooth 
and  grass}^  hill  rose  from  a  landscape  luxuriant  with  verdure, 
draped  with  vineyards,  and  rich  in  the  autumnal  hues  of 
harvest.  The  waters  of  the  lake  sparkled  in  the  sunlight,  and 
the  distant  horizon  was  fringed  with  towering  mountains. 
Jesus  sat  upon  the  summit  of  the  hill:  Ms  avowed  disciples 

43 


44  mSTOKT  OF  CHRI8TIANITT. 

gathered  affectionatelj''  around  :  the  multitude,  presenting  a 
sea  of  upturned  faces,  thronged  the  grassy  slopes. 

It  was  then  and  there  that  Jesus  delivered  that  Sermon  ou 
the  Mount,  which,  by  universal  admission,  is  the  most  memo- 
rable discourse  ever  uttered  by  human  lips.  Probably  in  a 
voice  which  penetrated  the  remotest  ear,  he  enunciated  those 
sublime  truths,  which,  for  eighteen  centuries,  have  echoed 
through  human  hearts,  and  which  will  continue  thus  to  echo, 
with,  ever-increasing  power,  until  the  flames  of  the  last  con- 
flagration shall  envelop  our  globe. 

He  first  announced  the  conditions  of  entrance  into  the  new 
kingdom  of  God.  Its  gates  were  to  be  open  to  the  lowly  in 
heart ;  to  those  weeping  over  their  own  unworthiness,  and 
hungering  and  thirsting  for  righteousness.  Those  qualities 
which  were  most  despised  by  Jewish  pride  and  pharisaic  self- 
righteousness  were  the  ones  upon  which  God  looked  with  love 
and  a  blessing. 

He  then  declared  the  law  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  showing 
that,  instead  of  abrogating  the  old  covenant,  it  did  but  re- 
establish its  principles,  and  supplement  its  imperfections,  by 
carr3-ing  moral  obligations  be3'ond  all  external  observances, 
into  the  inner  regions  of  the  heart. 

With  amazement  this  motley  assemblage  must  have  listened 
to  announcements  so  contrary  to  the  whole  spirit  of  the  age  ; 
as, — 

"Love  3'our  enemies.  Bless  them  that  curse  you.  Whoso- 
ever shall  smite  thee  on  the  right  cheek,  turn  to  him  the  other 
also.  Blessed  are  ^-e  when  men  shall  revile  j'ou  and  jDersecute 
you,  and  shall  say  all  manner  of  evil  against  you,  for  my  sake. 
Be  ye  therefore  perfect  even  as  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven 
is  perfect,  that  ye  may  be  the  children  of  your  Father  which 
is  in  heaven  ;  for  he  maketh  his  sun  to  shine  upon  the  evil 
and  the  good,  and  sendeth  his  rain  upon  the  just  and  upon 
the  unjust." 

The  parade  of  alms-giving,  ostentatious  devotion,  and  the 
display  of  fastings  and  pra3'ers,  are  severely  denounced.  And, 
in  this  connection,  Jesus  gave  that  sublime  formula  of  prayer 


TOUR   THROUGH  GALILEE.  46 

which  has  compelled  the  admiration  even  of  his  foes,  and 
which  for  beauty  and  comprehensiveness  can  find  no  parallel 
in  the  literature  of  the  world :  — 

"  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven,  hallowed  be  thy  name. 
Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  will  be  done  in  earth  as  it  is  in 
heaven.  Give  us,  this  day,  our  daily  bread.  And  forgive  us 
our  debts  as  we  forgive  our  debtors.  And  lead  us  not  into 
temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  evil.  For  thine  is  the  kingdom, 
and  the  power,  and  the  glory,  forever.     Amen." 

In  this  wonderful  discourse  each  statement  is  but  an  annun- 
ciation of  truth,  bearing  with  it  its  own  evidence.  There  is 
no  labored  argument,  no  attempt  to  prove  his  doctrine.  The 
assumption  seemed  to  be,  that  no  honest  mind  could  refuse  its 
assent  to  these  truths.  With  such  divine  majesty  he  gave 
utterance  to  these  sublime  principles,  that  it  is  recorded,  "  The 
people  were  astonished  at  his  doctrine ;  for  he  taught  them  as 
one  having  authority,  and  not  as  the  scribes." 

From  the  mount,  Jesus  directed  his  steps  towards  Caper- 
naum, followed  by  a  great  multitude  still  eager  to  hear  the 
word  of  God.  When  he  reached  the  shore  of  the  lake,  the 
crowd  became  so  dense  as  to  impede  his  steps.  There  were 
two  boats  by  the  shore,  their  owners  being  at  a  little  distance 
washing  their  nets.  One  of  these  belonged  to  Simon  Peter. 
To  avoid  the  pressure,  Jesus  entered  the  boat,  and  requested 
Peter  to  push  out  a  little  from  the  land.  From  the  boat,  sur- 
veying the  vast  throng  upon  the  shore,  he  again  addressed 
them ;  but  we  have  no  record  of  the  words  he  spoke.  It  is 
uncertain  whether  Peter  accompanied  Jesus  on  this  his  first 
tour  through  Galilee.  At  the  close  of  the  discourse,  Jesus  re- 
quested Peter  to  launch  out  a  little  farther  into  the  deep,  and 
let  down  his  net.  Peter  slightly  remonstrated,  saying,  "Master, 
we  have  toiled  all  night,  and  have  taken  nothing :  neverthe- 
less, at  thy  word,  I  will  let  down  the  net."  He  did  so,  and  a 
miraculous  draught  of  fishes  was  enclosed,  so  that  the  net  brol  e, 
and  it  was  necessary  to  call  for  assistance  from  another  boat. 
Two  boats  were  so  filled  with  the  fishes,  that  they  began  to 
aink.     Simon  Peter  was  so  impressed  by  this  miracle,  that  he 


46  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

fell  upon  his  knees  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  exclaiming,  "  Depart 
from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  0  Lord ! " 

"  If  Peter,"  writes  R.  Mimpriss,  "  had  returned  to  his 
worldly  occupation  through  the  fear  of  heing  in  want,  as  fol- 
lowing One  who  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head,  he  must  have 
felt  confounded  at  this  reproof  of  his  own  unfaithfulness  in 
being  so  plentifully  supplied  by  his  Lord  when  unable  to  pro- 
vide any  thing  for  himself  in  his  own  way.  Peter  seems  to 
have  been  powerfully  impressed,  not  only  with  the  miracle,  but 
al90  with  his  own  unworthiness  as  a  disciple." 

Jesus  compassionates  the  weakness  of  his  impulsive  disci- 
ple, and  replies,  "  Fear  not :  henceforth  thou  shalt  catch  men." 
James  and  John  were  with  Peter,  and  witnessed  this  transac- 
tion. They  all  were  convinced  that  it  was  folly  to  doubt  that 
Jesus  bad  divine  power  to  make  suitable  provision  for  all  who 
were  in  his  service.  This  faith  brought  forth  immediate  fruit 
in  corresponding  works.  "  They  forsook  all,  and  followed 
him." 

Approaching  the  city,  Jesus  encountered  a  leper.  The  scene 
which  ensued  cannot  be  more  forcibly  described  than  in  the 
graphic  language  of  Mr.  Lyman  Abbott :  — 

"  In  its  worst  forms,  leprosy  is  alike  awful  in  its  character, 
and  hideous  in  its  appearance.  For  years  it  lurks  concealed 
in  the  interior  organs.  Gradually  it  develops  itself:  spots  of 
red  appear  upon  the  skin,  chiefly  the  face ;  the  hair  of  the 
brows  and  lids  and  beard  begins  to  fall  off;  the  eyes  become 
fierce  and  staring ;  the  voice  grows  hoarse  and  husky,  and  is 
finally  quite  lost ;  the  joints  grow  stiff,  refuse  to  fulfil  their 
ofl&ce,  and  drop  off  one  by  one ;  the  eyes  are  eaten  from  their 
sockets.  The  patient,  strangely  insensible  to  his  awful  condi- 
tion, suffers  an  apathy  of  mind  that  is  scarcely  less  dreadful 
than  the  condition  of  his  body. 

"  Universally  regarded  as  suffering  a  disease  as  virulent  m 
its  contagion  as  in  its  immediate  effects,  the  leper  was  shunned 
as  one  whose  fetid  breath  bore  pestilential  poison  in  it.  Uni- 
versally regarded  as  bearing  in  his  body  the  special  marks 
of  divine  displeasure  for  intolerable  sin,  his  sufferings  awoke 


TOUR    THROUGH  GALILEE.  47 

no  sympathy,  but  only  liorrop.  From  the  moment  of  the  first 
clearly-defined  symptoms,  the  wretched  man  was  deliberately 
given  over  to  death  :  he  was  an  outcast  from  society.  No 
home  could  receive  him.  Wife  and  children  might  not  minister 
to  him.  Wherever  he  went,  he  heralded  his  loathsome  presence 
by  the  cry,  '  Unclean,  unclean  ! ' 

"  Men  drew  one  side  to  let  him  pass.  Mothers  snatched 
their  children  from  before  his  path.  To  touch  him  —  the  horror- 
stricken  Jew  would  sooner  suffer  the  kiss  of  an  envenomed 
serpent.  No  one  ever  thought  to  proffer  succor  to  a  leper ;  no 
physician  ever  offered  him  hope  of  health  ;  no  amulets  could 
exorcise  this  dread  visitation.  A  special  token  of  the  wrath 
of  God,  only  God  could  cure  it :  only  repentance  of  sin  and  the 
propitiation  of  divine  wrath  could  afford  a  remedy.  No  hand 
ever  bathed  the  leper's  burning  brow,  or  brought  the  cooling 
draught  for  his  parched  lips.  None  ever  spoke  a  word  of  sym- 
pathy to  his  oppressed  heart.  Society  had  built  no  hospitals 
for  the  sick,  no  lazarettos  even  for  its  own  protection ;  and 
the  leper,  driven  from  the  towns,  dwelt  in  dismantled  dwellings, 
or  in  caves  and  clefts  of  the  rock,  solitary,  or  in  the  wretched 
companionship  of  victims  as  wretched  as  himself. 

"  One  of  these  unhappy  sufferers  had  heard  of  the  fame  of 
Jesus.  He  believed,  with  the  hope  sometimes  born  of  despera- 
tion, in  the  divine  power  of  this  new  prophet ;  and  nought 
but  divine  power  could  give  him  relief.  He  disregarded  alike 
the  law  which  excluded  him  from  the  city  and  the  horror  he 
must  face  to  enter  it,  and  broke  through  all  restraints  to 
implore  the  word  of  healing  from  this  inheritor  of  the  power 
of  Elijah.  The  crowd  heard  his  cry,  'Unclean,  unclean!' 
and  opened  in  superstitious  dread  to  give  him  passage  through. 
He  cast  himself  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  with  the  outcry  of  de- 
spairing imploration,  *  Lord,  if  thou  wilt,  thou  canst  make  me 
clean.'  The  people  had  looked  on  him  only  with  horror. 
Jesus  was  moved  with  compassion.  They  had  drawn  back 
that  they  might  not  receive  the  contagion  of  his  garments. 
Jesus  put  forth  his  hand  to  touch  him.  They  had  echoed  hia 
cry,  '  Unclean  ! '     Jesus  said,  *  I  will :  be  thou  clean.'     And,  in 


48  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

the  instant  of  that  speaking,  the  leper  felt  the  burning  fevei 
depart,  and  a  new  fresh  blood,  healed  at  its  fount,  course  through 
his  veins."  ^ 

Jesus  directed  the  man  to  go  directly  to  the  priest,  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  provisions  of  the  Mosaic  law,  and  to  obtain 
from  him  the  official  testimony  that  he  was  cured,  and  relief 
from  the  ban  which  was  laid  upon  him  as  a  leper.  This  he 
was  to  do  immediately,  before  the  priest  could  learn  that  it  was 
Jesus  who  had  healed  him  ;  otherwise  the  priest  might  refuse 
thro-ugh  prejudice  to  testify  to  the  reality  of  the  cure. 

A  miracle  so  wonderful  increased  the  excitement  which  had 
already  attained  almost  the  highest  pitch.  Such  crowds  flocked 
after  Jesus,  that  he  found  it  necessary  to  withdraw  from  the 
city,  and  seek  a  retreat  in  "  desert  places."  Still  the  multitude 
flocked  to  him  from  every  quarter.  Luke,  speaking  of  this  hia 
retirement,  says,  "  He  withdrew  himself  into  the  wilderness, 
and  prayed."  It  is  worthy  of  special  observation  how  much 
time  Jesus  spent  in  prayer. 

After  devoting  several  days  in  this  retreat  to  solitude  and 
devotion,  Jesus,  in  whose  character  the  serious,  thoughtful,  pen- 
sive temperament  so  wonderfully  predominated,  returned  to 
Capernaum.  The  tidings  spread  rapidly  throughout  the  city. 
An  immense  concourse  soon  thronged  the  street  on  which  the 
house  was  situated  which  he  had  entered.  Jesus  addressed 
the  vast  concourse,  — the  door-sill,  perhaps,  his  pulpit,  the  over- 
arching skies  his  temple,  and  his  audience  a  motley  assemblage 
crowding  the  pavements.  Proud  Pharisees  and  self-conceited 
doctors  of  the  law  had  come,  drawn  from  the  surrounding 
cities  to  the  spot  by  the  fame  of  Jesus. 

While  Jesus  was  speaking,  some  men  brought  a  paralytic 
patient  on  a  couch  to  be  healed.  But  the  concourse  was  so 
dense,  that  they  could  not  force  their  way  through  to  his  feet. 
The  roof  of  the  house  was  flat,  surrounded  by  a  battlement,  to 
prevent  any  one  from  falling  oiBf.  By  a  back  way  they  entered 
the  house,  ascended  to  the  roof,  broke  away  a  portion  of  the 
battlement,  and  with  cords  lowered  the  man  on  his  couch  down 
before  Jesus.     Palsy  is  often  the  result  of  an  intemperate  life, 

1  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  p,  178 


TOUli  TUIWUGU  GALILEE.  49 

of  sinful  habits  :  it  is  not  improbable  that  it  was  so  in  this 
case.  In  healing  the  leper,  Jesus  had  merely  said,  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  his  own  divine  power,  "I  will:  be  thou  clean." 
Now,  in  the  exercise  of  that  same  divine  power,  he  assumed 
the  prerogative  of  forgiving  sin. 

"When  Jesus  saw  their  faith,  he  said  unto  the  sick  of  the 
palsj',  Son,  thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee." 

The  Pharisees  and  the  doctors  of  the  law,  offended  at  this 
assumption,  said  one  to  another,  "Who  is  this  who  speaketh 
blasphemies?     Who  can  forgive  sins  but  God  only? 

"Jesus,  knowing  their  thoughts,  said.  Wherefore  think 
ye  evil  in  your  hearts  ?  For  whether  is  easier  to  sa}-,  Thj' 
sins  be  forgiven  thee  ?  or  to  sa^-.  Arise  and  walk  ?  But  that  ye 
ma}-  know  that  the  Son  of  man  hath  power  on  earth  to  f)rgive 
sins  (then  saith  he  to  the  sick  of  the  pais}-),  Arise,  take  up 
thy  bed,  and  go  unto  thine  house.  Immediatel}^  he  arose,  took 
up  the  bed,  and  went  forth  before  them  all." 

The  amazed  people  exclaimed,  "We  have  seen  strange 
things  to-day !" 

Leaving  the  thronged  cit}',  Jesus,  who  seems  ever  to  have 
cherished  a  great  fondness  for  the  country,  went  out  to  some  fa- 
vorite spot  upon  the  shore  of  the  lake  ;  but  the  excited  multi- 
tude followed  him.  As  they  were  leaving  the  city,  Jesus  saw 
a  man  named  Matthew,  also  called  Levi,  the  son  of  Alpheus, 
sitting  at  the  door  of  a  custom-house,  where  he  was  collecting 
the  taxes  which  were  levied  by  the  Roman  government.  The 
tax-gatherer  was  exceedingly  unpopular  with  the  Jews.  No 
intimation  is  given  us  respecting  the  character  of  Matthew, 
or  whether  he  had  previously  manifested  any  interest  in 
Jesus.  But,  for  some  reason,  Jesus  deemed  him  worthy  of 
being  called  as  one  of  his  apostles.  The  fact  is  announced 
in  the  brief  words,  "And  he  saith  unto  him,  Follow  me  ;  and 
he  left  all,  rose  up,  and  followed  him." 

Matthew  took  Jesus  to  his  house,  and  invited  some  of  his 
old  friends,  several  of  whom  were  tax-gatherers,  and  others 
not  of  religious  repute,  to  meet  him  at  a  feast.  It  would 
seem  that  there  was  a  prcttj'  large  party  ;  for  it  is  recorded, — 


50  EISTOliY  OF  CRRISTIANITT. 

"Mam'  publiciins  and  sinners  sat  also  together  with  Jesus 
and  his  disciples  ;  for  there  were  many." 

The  scribes  and  Pharisees  were  very  indignant  that  Jesus 
should  associate  with  persons  of  such  character.  Jesus, 
hearing  of  their  fault-finding,  replied, — 

"The}'  that  are  whole  need  not  a  ph3-sician,  but  thej-  that 
are  sick.  I  came  not  to  call  the  righteous,  but  sinners  to 
repentance." 

He  then,  by  the  forcible  illustrations  of  the  "new  cloth  on 
an  old  garment"  and  "new  wine  in  old  bottles,"  showed  that 
the  rigorous  observances  of  the  old  dispensation  were  not 
adapted  to  the  freedom  and  privileges  of  the  new. 

The  time  for  the  feast  of  the  Passover  had  come  ;  and  Jesus, 
with  his  disciples,  took  a  second  journey  to  Jerusalem.  There 
was  a  pool  at  Jerusalem  called  Bethesda,  which,  in  the  popular 
estimation,  had  at  a  certain  season  of  the  j'ear  great  medicinal 
virtues.  At  such  times,  large  numbers,  suffering  from  every 
variety  of  disease,  were  brought  to  the  pool.  Jesus  saw  a  man 
there  who  had  been  utterl}'  helpless,  from  paralysis  probabl}', 
for  thirty-eight  years.  He  was  poor  and  friendless.  Sympa- 
thetically Jesus  addressed  him,  inquiring,  "Do  you  wish  to  be 
made  whole?"  The  despairing  cripple  replied,  "Sir,  I  have 
no  one,  when  the  water  is  troubled,  to  put  me  into  the  pool ; 
but,  while  I  am  coming,  another  steppeth  down  before  me." 
Jesus  said  to  him,  "Rise,  take  up  tlay  bed,  and  walk."  Imme- 
dialel}^  the  man  was  made  whole. 

It  was  the  sabbath.  The  sanctimonious  Pharisees,  watch- 
ing for  some  accusation  of  Jesus,  when  they  saw  the  rejoicing 
man  in  perfect  health,  carrying  the  light  mattress  upon  which 
he  had  reclined,  in  an  absurd  spirit  of  cavilling  accused  him 
of  violating  the  holy  day  b}'  carrying  a  burden.  He  replied, 
that  the  one  who  had  cured  him  had  directed  him  to  do  so. 
Upon  their  inquiring  who  it  was  who  had  given  him  such  di- 
rections, he  could  only  reply  that  he  did  not  know.  It  appears 
that  Jesus,  immediatel}'  after  performing  the  miracle,  had 
Avithdrawn. 

Soon  after  this,  Jesus  met  the  man  in  the  temple.     It  is 


TOUR   THROUGH  GALILEE.  61 

probable  that  his  disorder  had  been  brought  on  by  intemper- 
ance and  vice ;  for  Jesus,  addressing  him,  said,  "  Behold,  thou 
art  made  whole  :  sin  no  more,  lest  a  worse  thing  come  unto 
thee."  The  news  of  this  miracle  rapidly  spread.  The  Phari- 
sees denounced  Jesus  severely,  assuming  that  he  was  breaking 
the  sabbath.  Jesus  had  performed  this  miracle  in  his  own 
name,  as  by  his  own  power.  His  remarkable  reply  to  their 
accusation  was,  "  My  Father  worketh  hitherto,  and  I  work." 
This  astounding  assertion  implied  his  equality  with  God  the 
Father.  "  As  my  Father,"  he  says,  "  carries  on  the  works  of 
providence  on  the  sabbath,  so  I,  his  Son,  have  an  equal  right 
to  prosecute  my  labors."  The  Jews  were  so  indignant  at  this 
assumption,  that  they  formed  a  plot  to  slay  him,  "  because  he 
not  only  had  broken  the  sabbath,  but  said  also  that  God  was 
his  Father,  making  himself  equal  with  God." 

Jesus  did  not  deny  the  accuracy  of  their  inference,  but  re-en- 
forced it  by  declaring  in  still  stronger  terms  his  unity  with  the 
Father :  "  Verily  I  say  unto  you.  The  Son  can  do  nothing  of 
himself  but  what  he  seeth  the  Father  do ;  for  what  things 
soever  he  doeth,  these  also  doeth  the  Son  likewise.  For  the 
Father  loveth  the  Son,  and  showeth  him  all  things  that  himself 
doeth.  And  he  will  show  him  greater  works  than  these,  that  ye 
may  marvel.  For  as  the  Father  raiseth  up  the  dead,  and  quick- 
eneth  them  [gives  them  life],  even  so  the  Son  quickeneth  whom 
he  will.  For  the  Father  judgeth  no  man,  but  hath  committed 
aU  judgment  unto  the  Son ;  that  all  men  should  honor  the 
Son  even  as  they  honor  the  Father.  He  that  honoreth  not  the 
Son,  honoreth  not  the  Father  which  hath  sent  him. 

"  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you.  He  that  heareth  my  word, 
and  believeth  on  Him  that  sent  me,  hath  everlasting  life,  and 
shall  not  come  into  condemnation,  but  is  passed  from  death 
unto  life.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you.  The  hour  is  coming, 
and  now  is,  when  the  dead  shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of 
God;  and  they  that  hear  shall  live.  For  as  the  Father  hath 
life  in  himself,  so  hath  he  given  to  the  Son  to  have  life 
in  himself ;  and  hath  given  him  authority  to  execute  judgment 
aIso,  because  he  is  the  Son  of  man.     Marvel  not  at  this ;  for 


52  BISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

the  hour  is  comiDg  in  the  which  all  that  are  in  the  graves  shall 
hear  his  voice,  and  shall  come  forth ;  they  that  have  done  good 
nnto  the  resurrection  of  life,  and  they  that  have  done  evil 
unto  the  resurrection  of  damnation.  I  can  of  mine  own 
self  do  nothing.  As  I  hear,  I  judge ;  and  my  judgment  is 
just ;  because  I  seek  not  mine  own  wUl,  but  the  will  of  the 
Father  which  hath  sent  me." 

The  remainder  of  this  remarkable  discourse  we  must  here 
omit  for  want  of  space.  We  are  not  informed  what  impression 
it  produced  upon  his  auditors.  Soon  after  this,  Jesus,  accom- 
panied by  some  of  his  disciples,  in  the  vicinity  of  Jerusalem, 
was  passing,  on  the  sabbath,  through  a  field  of  grain.  By  an 
express  statute,  any  one  could  pluck  a  handful  of  the  standing 
wheat  as  he  passed.  His  disciples,  being  hungry,  plucked  the 
ears,  rubbed  out  the  kernels  in  their  hands,  and  ate  them.  The 
cavilling  Pharisees,  ever  watching  for  some  offence,  again  com- 
plained that  Jesus  was  encouraging  the  violation  of  the  sab- 
bath. Jesus  improved  the  opportunity  to  show  that  the  laws 
of  God  were  intended  for  the  benefit  of  man ;  that  David  and 
his  followers,  when  hungry,  ate  of  the  show-bread,  and  were 
blameless ;  that  the  priests  in  the  temple  did  not  violate  the 
sabbath  in  performing  a  large  amount  of  labor  required  by 
their  services.  They  might  reply,  "  You  are  no  priest,  and 
your  work  is  not  for  the  benefit  of  the  temple."  This  objec- 
tion was  met  by  the  very  remarkable  statement,  that  Jesus  was 
Lord  of  the  temple :  — 

"  But  I  say  unto  you,  That  in  this  place  is  one  greater  than 
the  temple.  But,  if  ye  had  known  what  this  meaneth,  I  will 
have  mercy,  and  not  sacrifice,  ye  would  not  have  condemned 
the  guiltless.  For  the  Son  of  man  is  Lord  even  of  the  sabbath 
day." 

These  were  astounding  declarations  for  even  the  most 
exalted  prophet  to  make,  —  that  he  was  the  Son  of  God  ;  that 
he  came  forth  from  the  Father;  that  whatever  the  Father 
could  do,  he  could  do  ;  that  all  men  were  bound  to  honor  him 
even  as  they  honored  the  Father. 

Hetuming   to   the  city,  Jesus  entered  the  synagogue.     It 


TOUR  THROUGH  GALILEE.  53 

was  the  sabbath  da}',  and  the  building  was  doubtless  thronged, 
as,  whei-ever  Jesus  now  appeared,  the  multitude  followed.  It 
is  manifest  that  the  masses  of  the  people  were  in  s^'mpathy 
with  him,  though  the  self-righteous  Pharisees  and  the  doctors 
of  the  law  sought  for  anopportunityof  bringing  forward  such 
accusations  as  should  turn  the  tide  against  him.  In  the 
sj'nagogue  there  was  a  man  with  a  withered  hand,  who  had 
doubtless  come  hoping  to  find  Jesus  and  to  be  cured.  The 
Pharisees  watched  him,  to  see  if  he  would,  as  they  deemed  it, 
or  pretended  to  deem  it,  violate  the  sabbath  by  doing  a  work 
of  healing  upon  that  da}-.  Jesus,  knowing  their  thoughts, 
called  upon  the  man  to  rise  up  and  stand  forth  in  a  conspicu- 
ous place  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  congregation.  Then, 
turning  to  the  Pharisees,  he  said, — 

"I  will  ask  3-ou  one  thing:  Is  it  lawful  on  the  sabbath 
days  to  do  good,  or  to  do  evil?  to  save  life,  or  to  destroy  it?" 
Apparent!}',  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  added, — 

"What  man  shall  there  be  among  3'oa  that  shall  have  one 
sheep,  and,  if  it  fall  into  a  pit  on  the  sabbath  day,  will  he  not 
lay  hold  on  it  and  lift  it  out?  How  much,  then,  is  a  man 
better  than  a  sheep?  Wherefore  it  is  lawful  to  do  well  on 
the  sabbath  days." 

This  unanswerable  argument,  of  course,  carried  with  it  the 
convictions  of  the  masses  of  the  people.  The  Pharisees  were 
exasperated.  .  Jesus,  instead  of  assuming  an  air  of  triumph, 
or  even  feeling  it,  in  his  inmost  soul  was  saddened  by  the 
malignant  spirit  displa3ed  by  his  adversaries.  "Being  grieved 
for  the  hardness  of  their  hearts,  he  saith  unto  the  man.  Stretch 
forth  Ihine  hand  ;  and  he  stretched  it  out,  and  his  hand  was 
restored  whole  as  the  other." 

The  Pharisees  were  so  enraged  in  being  thus  baffled,  that 
they  went  out  and  entered  into  a  conspiracy  with  the  parti- 
sans of  the  infamous  Herod  to  put  hini  to  death.  Jesus, 
who  "knew  their  thoughts,"  quietly  withdrew,  and,  leaving 
•Judaea,  returned  to  Galilee.  As  he  travelled  invariably  on 
foot,  it  was  a  journc}-,  through  the  whole  breadth  of  Samaria, 
of  several  days.     It  is  remarkable  that  no  record  of  this  jour- 


54  BISTORT  OF  CRBISTIANITY. 

ney  is  given  us,  though  Jesus  was  unquestionabl}*  healing 
the  sick  and  preaching  the  gospel  all  the  waj'.  "We  are  sim- 
ply informed  by  Mark, — 

"A  great  multitude  from  Galilee  followed  him,  and  from 
Judaea,  and  from  Jerusalem,  and  from  Idumsea,  and  from 
beyond  Jordan  ;  and  the3'  about  Tyi-e  and  Sidon,  a  great 
multitude,  when  they  had  heard  what  great  things  he  did, 
came  unto  him." 

When  they  reached  the  shores  of  the  Sea  of  G-alilee,  the 
throng  became  so  great,  that  Jesus,  to  avoid  the  pressure  of 
the  crowd,  entered  "a  small  ship,"  or  boat,  and  pushed  out  a 
little  from  the  shore;  "for  he  had  healed  man\-,  insomuch 
that  they  pressed  upon  him  for  to  touch  him,  as  many  as  had 
plagues.  And  unclean  spirits,  when  they  saw  him,  fell  down 
before  him,  and  cried,  sa3ing.  Thou  art  the  Sou  of  God  !" 

From  the  tumult  of  these  exciting  and  exhausting  scenes, 
Jesus  escaped  to  the  solitude  of  a  mountain  near  hy,  where, 
alone,  he  "continued  all  night  in  praj-er  to  G-od."'  In  the 
morning  he  called  his  disciples  to  him,  and,  after  these  long 
hours  of  iDrayer,  "of  them  he  chose  twelve,  whom  he  named 
apostles.  And  he  ordained  twelve,  that  they  should  be  with 
him,  and  that  he  might  send  them  forth  to  preach,  and  to  have 
power  to  heal  sicknesses  and  to  cast  ont  devils.  Now,  the 
names  ofthese  twelve  apostles  are  those  :  Simon,  who  is  called 
Peter,  and  Andrew  his  brother  ;  James  the  son  of  Zebedee, 
and  John  his  brother  ;  Philip  and  Bartholomew  ;  Thomas,  and 
Matthew  the  publican  ;  James  the  8on  of  Alphoeus,  and 
LebbjBus,  whose  surname  was  Thaddrens  ;  Simon  the  Canaan- 
ite,  and  Judas  Iscariot,  who  also  betrayed  him."^ 

Accompanied  by  these  twelve  as  a  select  and  sacred  band 
of  missionaries,  and  followed  by  the  remaining  band  of  the 
disciples,  Josus  descended  from  the  mountain  into  one  of  the 
plains  which  fringed  the  shores  of  the  Galilean  lake.  Imme- 
diately he  was  surrounded  with  "a  great  multitude  of  people 
which  came  to  hear  him  and  to  be  healed  of  their  diseases, 
and  they  that  were  vexed  with  unclean  spirits  ;  and  they  were 

»Lukc  vl.  12.  '  2Matt.  x.  2-4. 


TOUR   THROUGH  GALILEE.  56 

healed.  And  the  whole  multitude  sought  to  touch  him ;  for 
there  went  virtue  out  of  him,  and  healed  them  all." 

In  the  presence  of  this  vast  assemblage,  and  in  a  voice 
which  probably  every  one  could  hear,  Jesus  again  gave  full 
utterance  to  the  moral  principles  upon  which  his  kingdom 
was  to  be  reared.  In  this  extraordinary  address,  the  same 
principles  are  enunciated  which  he  proclaimed  in  his  Sermon 
on  the  Mount,  which  Matthew  has  recorded.  Luke  has  prob- 
ably given  us  but  an  epitome  of  this  second  address.  It  was 
as  follows :  — 

"  And  he  lifted  up  his  eyes  on  his  disciples,  and  said.  Blessed 
are  ye  poor ;  for  yours  is  the  kingdom  of  God.  Blessed  are  ye 
that  hunger  now ;  for  ye  shall  be  filled.  Blessed  are  ye  that 
weep  now ;  for  ye  shall  laugh.  Blessed  are  ye  when  men  shall 
hate  you,  and  when  they  shall  separate  you  from  their  com- 
pany, and  reproach  you,  and  shall  cast  out  your  name  as  evU, 
for  the  Son  of  man's  sake.  Rejoice  ye  in  that  day,  and  leap 
for  joy ;  for,  behold,  your  reward  is  great  in  heaven ;  for  in 
like  manner  did  their  fathers  unto  the  propbets. 

"  But  woe  unto  you  that  are  rich  !  for  you  have  received  your 
consolation.  Woe  unto  you  that  are  full !  for  ye  shall  hunger. 
Woe  unto  you  that  laugh  now  1  for  ye  shall  mourn  and  weep. 
Woe  unto  you  when  all  men  shall  speak  well  of  you !  for  so 
did  their  fathers  to  the  false  prophets. 

"  But  I  say  unto  you  which  hear.  Love  your  enemies,  do 
good  to  them  which  hate  you,  bless  them  that  curse  you,  and 
pray  for  them  which  despitefully  use  you.  And  unto  him  that 
smiteth  thee  on  the  one  cheek  offer  also  the  other ;  and  him 
that  taketh  away  thy  cloak  forbid  not  to  take  thy  coat  also. 
Give  to  every  man  that  asketh  of  thee ;  and  of  him  that 
taketh  away  thy  goods  ask  them  not  again.  And  as  ye  would 
that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye  also  to  them  likewise.  For 
if  ye  love  them  which  love  you,  what  thank  have  ye  ?  for  sin- 
ners also  love  those  that  love  them.  And  if  ya  do  good  to 
them  which  do  good  to  you,  what  thank  have  ye  ?  for  sinners 
also  do  even  the  same.  And  if  ye  lend  to  them  of  whom  ye 
hope  to  receive,  what  thank  have  ye  ?  for  sinners  also  lend  to 
sinners,  to  rp.o.eive  as  much  agair 


66  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

"  But  love  ye  your  enemies,  and  lend,  hoping  for  nuthing 
again,  and  your  reward  shall  be  great,  and  ye  shall  be  the 
children  of  the  Highest ;  for  he  is  kind  unto  the  unthankful 
and  the  evil.  Be  ye  therefore  merciful  as  your  Father  also 
is  merciful.  Judge  not,  and  ye  shall  not  be  judged :  condemn 
not,  and  ye  shall  not  be  condemned :  forgive,  and  ye  shall  be 
forgiven :  give,  and  it  shaU  be  given  unto  you ;  good  measure, 
pressed  down,  and  shaken  together,  shall  men  give  into  your 
bosom.  For  with  the  same  measure  that  ye  mete  withal  it 
shall  be  measured  to  you  again.  ^ 

"  Can  the  blind  lead  the  blind  ?  Shall  they  not  both  fall 
into  the  ditch  ?  The  disciple  is  not  above  his  master ;  but 
every  one  that  is  perfect  shall  be  as  his  master.  And  why 
beh  oldest  thou  the  mote  that  is  in  thy  brother's  eye,  but  per- 
ceivest  not  the  beam  that  is  in  thine  own  eye  ?  Either  how 
canst  thou  say  to  thy  brother,  Brother,  let  me  pull  out  the 
mote  that  is  in  thine  eye,  when  thou  thyself  beholdest  not  the 
beam  that  is  in  thine  own  eye  ?  Thou  hypocrite !  cast  out 
first  the  beam  out  of  thine  own  eye,  and  then  shalt  thou  see 
clearly  to  pull  out  the  mote  that  is  in  thy  brother's  eye. 

"  For  a  good  tree  bringeth  not  forth  corrupt  fruit ;  neither 
doth  a  corrupt  tree  bring  forth  good  fruit.  For  every  tree  is 
known  by  his  own  fruit.  For  of  thorns  men  do  not  gather 
figs,  nor  of  a  bramble-bush  gather  they  grapes.  A  good 
man,  out  of  the  good  treasure  of  his  heart,  bringeth  forth  that 
which  is  good;  and  an  evil  man,  out  of  the  evil  treasure  of 
his  heart,  bringeth  forth  that  which  is  evil :  for  of  the  abun- 
dance of  the  heart  his  mouth  speaketh. 

"  And  why  call  ye  me  Lord,  Lord,  and  do  not  the  things 
which  I  say?  Whosoever  cometh  to  me,  and  heareth  my 
sayings,  and  doeth  them,  I  wiU  show  you  to  whom  he  is  like. 
He  is  like  a  man  which  built  a  house,  and  digged  deep,  and 
laid  the  foundation  on  a  rock.  And,  when  the  flood  arose,  the 
stream  beat  vehemently  upon  that  house,  and  could  not  shake 
it ;  for  it  was  founded  upon  a  rock.  But  he  that  heareth,  and 
doeth  not,  is  like  a  man,  that,  without  a  foundation,  built  a 
house   upon   the  earth ;    against  which  the  stream  did  beat 


TOUR   THROUGH  GALILEE.  67 

vehemently,  and  immediately  it  fell ;  and  the  ruin  of  that 
house  was  great." 

At  the  close  of  this  address,  Jesus  entered  into  Capernaum. 
There  was  residing  in  the  city  a  centurion,  or  captain  of  a  band 
of  a  hundred  Roman  soldiers.  He  had  a  servant  who  was 
aick,  "  grievously  tormented,  and  ready  to  die  "  of  a  palsy.  It 
is  probable  that  this  centurion,  though  a  pagan  by  birth,  had 
become  a  worshipper  of  the  God  of  the  Jews,  and  was  highly 
esteemed  by  the  Jewish  people.  Immediately  upon  the  return 
of  Jesus  to  Capernaum,  the  centurion  repaired  to  the  elders  of 
the  Jews,  and  besought  them  that  they  would  intercede  with 
Jesus  in  his  behalf  that  he  would  heal  his  servant.  They 
went  in  a  body,  the  centurion  accompanying  them. 

"  And,  when  they  came  to  Jesus,  they  besought  hioi  instant- 
ly, saying.  That  he  was  worthy  for  whom  he  should  do  this ; 
for  he  loveth  our  nation,  and  he  hath  built  us  a  synagogue." 

Jesus,  addressing  the  centurion,  said  unto  him,  "  I  will  come 
and  heal  him."  The  centurion  replied,  "  Lord,  I  am  not  wor- 
thy that  thou  shouldest  come  under  my  roof;  but  speak  the  word 
only,  and  my  servant  shall  be  healed.  For  I  am  a  man  under 
authority,  having  soldiers  under  me :  and  I  say  to  this  man, 
Go,  and  he  goeth;  and  to  another.  Come,  and  he  cometh; 
and  to  my  servant,  Do  this,  and  he  doeth  it." 

When  Jesus  saw  that  this  Roman  soldier,  this  Gentile,  had 
such  implicit  confidence  in  him  as  to  believe  that  diseases 
were  as  obedient  to  the  command  of  Jesus  as  his  own  men 
were  to  his  authority,  he  turned  to  his  disciples,  and  said  unto 
them,  "  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  I  have  not  found  so  great  faith, 
no,  not  in  Israel.  And  I  say  unto  you,  That  many  shall  come 
from  the  east  and  west,  and  shall  sit  down  with  Abraham 
and  Isaac  and  Jacob  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  But  the 
children  of  the  kingdom  shall  be  cast  out  into  outer  darkness: 
there  shall  be  weeping,  and  gnashing  of  teeth." 

Then,  addressing  the  centurion,  he  said,  "Go  thy  way;  and 
as  thou  hast  believed,  so  be  it  done  unto  thee."  The  centu- 
rion and  his  friends,  returning  to  the  house,  found  the  servant 
restored  to  perfect  health 


58  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

The  next  day,  Jesus,  accompanied  by  hi?  disciples  and  a 
large  concourse  of  the  people,  went  to  Nain,  a  small  city 
among  the  mountains  of  Galilee,  about  twelve  miles  south-west 
of  Capernaum.  "  Now,  when  he  came  nigh  to  the  gate  of  the 
city,  behold,  there  was  a  dead  man  carried  out,  the  only  son  of 
his  mother,  and  she  was  a  widow ;  and  much  people  of  the  city 
was  with  her.  And,  when  the  Lord  saw  her,  he  had  compas- 
sion on  her,  and  said  unto  her.  Weep  not.  And  he  came 
and  touched  the  bier  ;  and  they  that  bare  him  stood  still.  And 
he  said,  Young  man,  I  say  unto  thee.  Arise.  And  he  that 
was  dead  sat  up,  and  began  to  speak ;  and  he  delivered  him 
to  his  mother.  And  there  came  a  fear  [awe  and  amaze- 
ment] on  all :  and  they  glorified  God,  saying,  That  a  great 
prophet  is  risen  up  among  us ;  and,  That  God  hath  visited  his 
people."  ^ 

John  the  Baptist  was  now  a  prisoner  in  the  castle  of  Ma- 
chsBrus.  He  had  testified  to  the  Messiahship  of  Jesus.  The 
months  were  gliding  away,  and  yet  Jesus  was  not  accomplish- 
ing any  thing  of  that  which  the  Jews  had  expected  of  their 
Messiah.  He  had  filled  Palestine  with  his  fame  as  a  great 
prophet,  performing  the  most  astounding  miracles,  and  preach- 
ing with  wisdom  and  power,  which  excited  the  admiration  of 
his  friends,  and  baffled  his  foes.  But  there  were  no  indications 
whatever  of  any  movement  in  the  direction  of  driving  out  the 
Romans,  and  restoring  the  Jews  to  independence  in  a  re-estab- 
lished kingdom  which  should  be  the  wonder  of  the  world.  As 
John,  from  the  glooms  of  his  prison,  watched  the  footsteps  of 
Jesus,  he  was  probably  disappointed  and  bewildered.  He 
began,  perhaps,  to  doubt  whether  Jesus  were  the  Messiah.  He 
therefore  sent  two  of  his  disciples  to  ask  of  Jesus  distinctly 
the  question,  "  Art  thou  he  that  should  come  ?  or  look  we  for 
another  ?  " 

Instead  of  replying  to  this  question,  Jesus  performed,  in  the 
presence  of  the  two  disciples,  a  large  number  of  very  extraor- 
dinary miracles.  "He  cured  many  of  their  infirmities  and 
plagues,  and  of  evil  spirits ;  and  unto  many  that  were  blind 
he  gave  sight." 

>  Luke  Tli.  12-16. 


TOUR   THROUOH  GALILEE.  59 

Then,  addressing  the  messengers  from  John,  he  said,  "  Go 
your  way,  and  tell  John  what  things  ye  have  seen  and  heard,  — 
how  that  the  blind  see,  the  lame  walk,  the  lepers  are  cleansed, 
the  deaf  hear,  the  dead  are  raised,  to  the  poor  the  gospel  is 
preached.  And  blessed  is  he  whosoever  shall  not  be  offended 
in  me." 

Then,  apparently  apprehensive  that  his  disciples  might  form 
an  unfavorable  opinion  respecting  John,  as  though  he  were 
fickle-minded,  having  once  declared  him  to  be  the  Messiah,  and 
then  in  doubt  sending  to  inquire  if  he  were  the  Messiah,  he 
assured  them  that  John  was  not  a  "  a  reed  shaken  by  the 
wind ; "  that  he  was  not  a  luxurious  man  "  clothed  in  soft  rai- 
ment," who  could  be  conquered  by  imprisonment ;  but  that  he 
was  one  of  the  most  heroic  and  inflexible  of  prophets : 
"  among  them  that  are  bom  of  women  there  hath  not  risen  a 
greater." 

Continuing  his  remarks,  he  said  that  the  scribes  and  lawyers 
were  like  capricious  children  invited  by  their  playmates  to  join 
them  in  their  amusements,  but  who  would  play  neither  at 
weddings  nor  funerals.  Thus  they  rejected  John  because  he 
was  too  austere,  and  Jesus  because  he  was  not  austere  enough. 
"  And  from  the  days  of  John  the  Baptist  until  now  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  suffereth  violence,  and  the  violent  take  it  by 
force."  —  "I  had  read  this  passage  a  hundred  times,"  said  John 
Randolph,  "  before  I  perceived  its  real  meaning,  — that  no  luke- 
warm seeker  can  become  a  true  Christian." 

There  were  two  cities,  Chorazin  and  Bethsaida,  in  which 
Jesus  had  preached  his  gospel  and  performed  many  miracles, 
and  they  had  not  accepted  his  doctrine.  Having  enjoyed  and 
rejected  such  privileges,  Jesus  declared  that  it  would  be  more 
tolerable  in  the  day  of  judgment  for  the  heathen  inhabitants 
of  Tyre  and  Sidon  than  for  them.  Capernaum  also  received 
the  severest  denunciation.  These  cities  have  utterly  perished : 
not  even  their  ruins  remain.  And  yet  Jesus  closed  this  im- 
pressive discourse  with  the  soothing  words,  "  Come  unto  me, 
all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy-laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest. 
Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me ;  for  I  am  meek,  and 


60  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

lowly  in  heart :  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls.     For 
my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light."  ^ 

Notwithstanding  the  severity  with  which  Jesus  denctmced 
the  Pharisees,  one  of  them,  by  the  name  of  Simon,  probably 
somewhat  convicted  of  sin,  invited  him  to  dine.  Jesus 
promptly  accepted  the  invitation.  While  reclining  upon  a 
couch  at  the  table,  in  the  Oriental  custom,  one  of  the  unhappy 
women  of  the  city,  of  notoriously  bad  character,  overwhelmed 
with  remorse,  came  in  with  a  box  of  precious  ointment,  and 
wept  so  bitterly,  that  her  tears  fell  upon  the  feet  of  Jesus 
where  she  knelt.  Che  wiped  the  tears  off  with  her  flowing 
hair,  and  anointed  his  feet  with  the  fragrant  ointment.  Jesus 
did  not  rebuke  her. 

The  proud,  self-righteous  Pharisee  was  offended.  Though 
he  did  not  venture  to  utter  any  words  of  reproof,  he  said  to  him- 
self, "  This  man,  if  he  were  a  prophet,  would  have  known  who 
and  what  manner  of  woman  this  is  that  toucheth  him."  Jesus 
knew  his  thoughts,  and  said,  in  those  calm  tones  of  authority 
which  marked  all  his  utterances,  — 

"  Simon,  I  have  somewhat  to  say  unto  thee.  There  was  a 
certain  creditor  which  had  two  debtors :  the  one  owed  five 
hundred  pence,  and  the  other  fifty.  And,  when  they  had  nothing 
to  pay,  he  frankly  forgave  them  both.  Tell  me,  therefore,  which 
of  them  will  love  him  most  ?  " 

Simon  replied,  "  I  suppose  that  he  to  whom  he  forgave 
most.''^ 

Jesus  said  unto  him,  "  Thou  hast  rightly  judged."  Then, 
turning  to  the  weeping  penitent  at  his  feet,  he  said,  "  Simon, 
seest  thou  this  woman  ?  I  entered  into  thy  house :  thou  gavest 
me  no  water  for  my  feet ;  but  she  hath  washed  my  feet  with  tears, 
and  wiped  them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head.  Thou  gavest  me 
no  kiss ;  but  this  woman,  since  the  time  I  came  in,  hath  not 
ceased  to  kiss  my  feet.  My  head  with  oil  thou  didst  not 
anoint ;  but  this  woman  hath  anointed  my  feet  with  ointment. 
Her  sins,  which  are  many,  are  forgiven ;  for  she  loved  much : 
but  to  whom  little  is  forgiven,  the  same  loveth  little." 

1  Matt.  xl.  20-30. 


TOUR   THROUGH  GALILEE.  61 

Then,  turning  to  the  woman,  he  said,  "  Thy  sins  are  forgiven. 
And  they  that  sat  at  meat  with  him  began  to  say  within  them- 
selves, Who  is  this  that  forgiveth  sins  also  ?  And  he  said  to 
the  woman,  Thy  faith  hath  saved  thee :  go  in  peace." 

From  the  city  of  Nain,  Jesus  set  out  upon  a  new  tour  through 
the  cities  and  villages  of  Galilee,  accompanied  by  his  twelve 
apostles.  Several  devoted  women  also  accompanied  them,  to 
minister  to  their  wants.  Mary,  called  Magdalene  (from  Mag- 
dala,  the  place  of  her  residence),  and  Joanna,  the  wife  of  Chuza, 
Herod's  steward,  and  Susanna,  are  specially  mentioned.  It  was 
truly  a  missionary  tour,  as  Jesus  "went  throughout  every  city 
and  village,  preaching  and  showing  the  glad  tidings  of  the 
kingdom  of  God."  It  must  have  occupied  several  months ; 
and  yet  we  have  scarcely  the  slightest  record  of  its  events. 

Upon  reaching  Capernaum,  the  throng  was  so  great,  that 
Jesus  had  no  time  even  to  partake  of  food.  A  man,  both 
blind  and  dumb,  and  possessed  with  a  devil,  was  brought  to 
him ;  and  he  healed  him.  This  led  many  to  inquire,  "  Is  not 
this  the  Messiah  ?  "  It  is  interesting  to  observe  how  the  feel- 
ings of  the  people  vacillated.  The  astounding  miracles  which 
Jesus  performed  led  them  to  believe  that  he  must  be  the 
Messiah  ;  and  yet  he  was  making  no  movement  whatever 
toward  the  establishment  of  that  temporal  kingdom  which 
they  supposed  to  be  the  principal  object  of  the  Messiah's  com- 
ing. The  Pharisees,  as  a  body,  were  growing  more  and  more 
malignant  in  their  hostility.  It  was  impossible  for  them  to 
deny  that  evil  spirits  were  compelled  to  obey  the  bidding  of 
Jesus.  They  therefore  absurdly  affirmed  that  the  devils  obeyed 
him  because  he  was  "  Beelzebub,  the  prince  of  the  devils."  It 
was  in  this  connection,  when  the  Pharisees,  wilfully  withstand- 
ing the  evidence  of  truth,  maliciously,  and  against  the  convic- 
tion of  their  own  consciences,  accused  Jesus  of  being  the  prince 
of  devils,  that  he  uttered  the  remarkable  declaration,  — 

"Whosoever  speaketh  a  word  against  the  Son  of  man,  it 
shall  be  forgiven  him ;  but  whosoever  speaketh  against  the 
Holy  Ghost,  it  shall  not  be  forgiven  him,  neither  in  this  world, 
neither  in  the  world  to  come." 


62  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

The  serenity  with  which  Jesus  ever  alluded  to  the  grandeui 
of  his  own  character  and  mission  is  worthy  of  special  notice. 
There  is  no  apparent  want  of  modesty  in  his  speaking  of  him- 
self in  terms  which,  from  the  lips  of  any  other  man,  would  be 
deemed  intolerable  boasting.  In  the  very  impressive  discourse 
uttered  upon  this  occasion,  he  said,  referring  to  himself,  — 

"The  men  of  Nineveh  shall  rise  in  judgment  with  this 
generation,  and  shall  condemn  it,  because  they  repented  at 
the  preaching  of  Jonas ;  and,  behold,  a  greater  than  Jonas  is 
here.  The  queen  of  the  south  shall  rise  up  in  the  judgment 
with  this  generation,  and  shall  condemn  it :  for  she  came 
from  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  to  hear  the  wisdom  of 
Solomon ;  and,  behold,  a  greater  than  Solomon  is  here." 

While  he  was  thus  speaking,  he  was  informed  thjit  his 
mother,  and  his  brothers,  James,  Joses,  Simon,  and  Judas, 
were  standing  without,  and  wished  to  speak  to  him.  He 
replied,  "  Who  is  my  mother  ?  and  who  are  my  brethren  ? " 
Then,  waving  his  hand  towards  his  disciples,  he  added, 
"  Behold  my  mother  and  my  brethren  !  For  whosoever  shall 
do  the  will  of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven,  the  same  is  my 
brother  and  sister  and  mother." 

The  same  day  on  which  the  above  transactions  took  place, 
Jesus  left  the  city  of  Capernaum,  and  repaired  to  a  secluded 
spot  upon  the  shores  of  the  lake.  As  usual,  an  immense  con- 
course followed  him.  Here,  addressing  listening  thousands, 
he  resumed  his  preaching,  standing  upon  a  boat,  while  the  mul- 
titude thronged  the  shore.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  he 
introduced  the  beautiful  parable  of  the  sower.  At  the  close, 
hig  disciples  inquired  why  he  addressed  the  people  in  parables. 
His  reply  was,  that  he  did  so,  because  that,  by  so  speaking,  hon- 
est inquirers  for  the  truth  could  easily  receive  it,  and  be  bene- 
fited by  it ;  while  cavillers,  who  hated  the  truth,  and  were  seek- 
ing only  for  opportunities  to  revile,  had  also  an  opportunity 
presented  to  them  to  develop  their  own  wicked  natures. 

He  then  introduced  the  parables  of  the  wheat  and  the 
tares,  of  the  grain  of  mustard-seed,  of  the  leaven.  Return- 
ing to  the  city,  he  entered  a  house  with  his  twelve  apostles, 


TOUR   THROUGH  GALILEE.  63 

and  there  privately  explained  more  fully  to  them  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  parables,  and  added  three  more,  —  the  parable  of 
the  hidden  treasure,  of  the  one  pearl,  of  the  net. 

As  the  evening  of  this  busy  day  approached,  Jesus  again 
sought  solitude,  and  requested  his  disciples  to  take  him  in  a 
boat  across  the  lake  to  the  eastern  shore.  The  lake  here  was 
about  six  miles  broad.  Slowly  moving  over  the  calm  waters, 
it  was  midnight  ere  they  reached  the  middle  of  the  lake. 
Suddenly  a  terrible  tempest  came  sweeping  down  upon  them 
from  the  snowy  cliffs  of  Mount  Hermon  on  the  north.  Jesus 
slept  serenely  amidst  the  surging  waves,  though  the  apparent 
danger  was  very  great.  His  terrified  companions  awoke  him, 
saying,  rather  petulantly,  "  Lord,  save  us !  Carest  thou  not 
that  we  perish  ?  " 

Jesus,  as  he  looked  around  upon  the  darkness  and  the 
raging  waves,  rebuked  the  wind  and  the  sea,  and  there  was 
immediately  a  perfect  calm.  Then,  turning  to  his  disciples,  he 
gently  chided  them  for  their  unbelief.  "  Why  are  ye  so  fear- 
ful ?  How  is  it  that  ye  have  no  faith  ? "  Notwithstanding 
all  they  had  witnessed  before,  the  disciples  were  greatly  im- 
pressed by  this  signal  display  of  power,  and  said  one  to  another, 
"  What  manner  of  man  is  this,  that  even  the  wind  and  the  sea 
obey  him  ?  " 

The  eastern  shore  of  the  lake  was  a  wUd,  rocky,  cavernous 
district,  which,  in  olden  time,  had  been  much  used  as  catacombs 
for  the  dpad.  They  had  scarcely  landed  amidst  the  solitude  of 
this  inhospitable  region  when  two  demoniacs  came  rushing 
out  of  the  tombs  to  meet  him.  Of  one  it  is  said,  he  was 
exceeding  fierce,  so  that  "  no  man  could  bind  him ;  no,  not  with 
chains  ;  because  that  he  had  been  often  bound  with  fetters  and 
chains,  and  the  chains  had  been  plucked  asunder  by  him,  and 
the  fetters  broken  in  pieces :  neither  could  any  man  tame  him. 
And  always,  night  and  day,  he  was  in  the  mountains  and  in 
the  tombs,  crying,  and  cutting  himself  with  stones." 

From  his  lair  this  madman  rushed  upon  Jesus  to  avenge 
this  invasion  of  his  domains.  But  suddenly  he  stopped, 
«eemed  bewildered,  terrified,  and,  falling  upon  his  knees,  gazed 


64  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

upon  the  approaching  stranger  with  speechless  astonishment. 
Calmly  Jesus  addrsssed  him,  saying,  "  Come  out  of  the  man^ 
thou  unclean  spirit ! "  Then  ensued  the  following  very  singular 
colloquy :  — 

The  demoniac,  with  a  loud  voice,  cried  out,  "  What  have  I  to 
do  with  thee,  Jesus,  thou  Son  of  God  most  high  ?  I  beseech 
thee,  torment  me  not." 

Jesus  replied,  "What  is  thy  name  ?  " 

"  My  name  is  Legion,"  answered  the  demoniac ;  "  for  we  are 
many."  The  devils  then  besought  Jesus  that  they  might  not 
be  sent  out  of  the  country,  so  congenial  to  them,  of  desola- 
tion, rocks,  and  deserted  tombs.  Upon  one  of  the  cliffs  which 
bordered  the  lake  there  was  a  herd  of  swine,  nearly  two  thou- 
sand in  number :  "  So  the  devils  besought  him,  saying.  If  thou 
cast  us  out,  suffer  us  to  go  away  into  the  herd  of  swine." 

Jesus  said  unto  them,  "  Go.  And  the  unclean  spirits  went 
out,  and  entered  into  the  swine ;  and  the  whole  herd  ran  vio- 
lently down  a  steep  place  into  the  sea,  and  were  choked  in  the 
sea." 

It  is,  perhaps,  not  strange  that  these  demons  should,  under 
the  circumstances,  have  conducted  in  a  manner  to  us  utterly 
inexplicable.  Certainly  no  attempts,  thus  far,  to  show  the  rea- 
sonableness of  their  course,  have  proved  successful. 

The  keepers  of  the  swine  fled,  reporting  throughout  the 
region  the  disaster  which  had  befallen  them,  doubtless  much 
more  impressed  by  the  loss  of  the  swine  than  by  the  restora- 
tion of  their  brother-man  from  the  possession  of  demons. 
The  desolate  country  on  this  side  of  the  lake  was  inhabited 
by  a  mixture  of  Jews  and  Gentiles.  As  the  Jews  were  for- 
bidden by  their  own  laws  to  keep  swine,  the  keepers  were 
either  engaged  in  illegal  business,  or  were  Gentiles. 

Not  far  from  the  scene  of  this  miracle  was  the  small  city 
of  Gergasa.  The  report  soon  reached  its  streets.  An  immense 
multitude,  "  the  whole  city,"  flocked  out  "  to  see  what  was 
done."  They  found  the  man,  whose  maniacal  fury  had  been 
the  terror  of  the  whole  community,  sitting  calm  and  peace- 
ful, "  in  his  right  mind,"  conversing  with  Jesus.     But  they 


TOUR   THROUGH  GALILEE  66 

mourned  the  loss  of  the  swine.  Still  they  stood  in  such  fear 
of  the  power  of  Jesus,  that  they  did  not  dare  to  molest  him, 
but,  with  one  accord,  entreated  him  to  depart  out  of  their 
coasts.  Jesus  responded  to  their  wishes  by  re-entering  the 
ship,  and  returning  to  the  other  side  of  the  lake.  The  grate- 
ful man,  who  had  been  thus  miraculously  delivered  from  the 
most  awful  doom,  begged  for  permission  to  accompany  him ; 
but  Jesus  withheld  his  consent,  saying,  — 

"  Go  home  to  thy  friends,  and  tell  them  how  great  tilings 
the  Lord  hath  done  for  thee,  and  hath  had  compassion  on 
thee."» 

Upon  the  return  of  Jesus  to  Capernaum,  he  was  received 
rery  cordially  by  the  people ;  for  they  had  missed  him,  and 
mourned  even  his  short  absence.  The  busy  life  of  Jesus, 
in  preaching  his  gospel,  and  in  enforcing  his  authority  by 
miraculous  deeds  of  beneficence,  seems  to  have  engrossed  every 
moment  of  his  time. 

Immediately  upon  his  return  to  Capernaum,  we  find  him 
surrounded  by  an  immense  concourse  of  people,  drawn  together 
by  the  novelty  and  the  charm  of  his  teachings.  While  he 
was  addressing  them,  Jairus,  one  of  the  rulers  of  the  syna- 
gogue, came,  and,  falling  upon  his  knees  at  the  feet  of  Jesus, 
earnestly  entreated  him  to  save  his  little  daughter,  who  was 
lying  at  the  point  of  death.  "  Come,  I  pray  thee,"  said  he, 
"  and  lay  thy  hands  on  her,  that  she  may  be  healed  ;  and  she 
shall  live." 

Jesus  accompanied  him  to  his  house :  his  disciples  and  the 
crowd  followed.  While  on  his  way  through  the  streets,  a 
woman,  afflicted  by  a  distressing  disease,  which,  according  to 
the  law,  was  pronounced  unclean,  and  was  deemed  incurable, 
stealthily  pressed  her  way  through  the  crowd,  and,  striving  to 
avoid  observation,  touched  the  hem  of  his  garment ;  for  she 
said  within  herself,  "  If  I  may  but  touch  his  garment,  I  shall 
be  whole." 

The  result  cannot  be  more  impressively  told  than  in  the 
words  of  the  evangelist  •    "  And  straightway  the  fountain  of 

>■  Mark  y.  18-20. 


66  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

her  biood  was  dried  up  ;  and  she  felt  in  her  body  that  she  was 
healed  of  that  plague.  And  Jesus,  immediately  knowing  in 
himself  that  virtue  had  gone  out  of  him,  turned  him  about  in 
the  press,  and  said,  Who  touched  my  clothes  ?  And  his  dis- 
ciples said  unto  him,  Thou  seest  the  multitude  thronging  thee, 
and  sayest  thou.  Who  touched  me  ?  And  he  looked  round 
about  to  see  her  that  had  done  this  thing.  But  the  woman, 
fearing  and  trembling,  knowing  what  was  done  in  her,  came 
and  fell  down  before  him,  and  told  him  all  the  truth.  And, 
when  he  saw  her,  he  said,  Daughter,  be  of  good  comfort :  thy 
faith  hath  made  thee  whole.  And  the  woman  was  made  whole 
from  that  hour." 

While  this  scene  was  transpiring,  a  messenger  came  from 
the  house  of  Jairus  to  inform  him  that  his  daughter  was  dead, 
and  that,  consequently,  all  hope  was  at  an  end.  But  Jesus 
spoke  words  of  encouragement  to  the  grief-stricken  father,  say- 
ing, "  Be  not  afraid :  only  believe."  They  repaired  to  the 
house.  The  members  of  the  bereaved  family  were  giving 
utterance  to  their  grief  by  loud  weeping  and  wailing.  Jesus 
gently  reproved  them,  intimating  that  he  would  awake  her 
from  the  sleep  of  death,  by  saying,  "  The  maid  is  not  dead,  but 
sleepeth."  This  assertion  only  excited  the  derision  of  the 
unbelieving  group  who  had  gathered  around  the  corpse. 

He  ordered  all  eo  leave  the  death-chamber.  Then,  entering 
with  the  father  and  mother  of  the  child,  he  took  the  lifeless 
hand  in  his  own,  and  said,  "  Damsel,  arise  ! "  Immediatf'ly  the 
glowing  blood  of  health  rushed  through  her  veins ;  and  the 
daughter  of  twelve  years  rose  from  her  couch,  to  be  encircled 
in  the  arms  of  her  amazed  and  grateful  parents. 

Thus  wonder  after  wonder  greeted  the  ears  of  the  aston- 
ished citizens  of  Capernaum.  Returning  from  the  house  of 
Jairus  to  the  dwelling,  probably  the  house  of  Peter,  which 
he  made  his  temporary  home  while  in  Capernaum,  he  was  fol- 
lowed by  two  blind  men,  who  incessantly  exclaimed,  "  Thou 
eon  of  David,  have  mercy  on  us  ! "  For  some  unexplained  rea- 
son, Jesus  paid  no  apparent  heed  to  their  cry.  But,  when  he 
entered  the  house,  the  blind  were  permitted  bv  the  multitude 


TOUR    THROUOR   GALILEE.  67 

to  crowd  their  way  in  also.  Jesus  then,  turning  to  tliem,  said, 
"  Believe  ye  that  I  am  able  to  do  this  ?  "  They  replied,  "  Yea, 
Lord."  Then  he  touched  their  eyes,  and  said,  "  According  to 
your  faith  be  it  unto  you."  We  know  not  why  Jesus  shoidd 
have  enjoined  it  upon  these  blind  men,  as  he  did  upon  the 
parents  of  the  maiden  restored  to  life,  not  to  proclaim  the  mir- 
acle abroad.  It  seems  impossible  that  such  astounding  events, 
occurring  in  a  crowded  city,  in  broad  day,  could  be  concealed, 
or  that  any  advantage  could  be  derived  from  their  conceal- 
ment. 

Jesus  returned  to  Nazareth  ;  but  his  reception  by  his  fellow- 
townsmen  was  not  cordial.  Though  he  performed  some  mira- 
cles, and  taught  in  their  synagogue  with  such  wisdom  and 
authority  as  astonished  them,  still  they  rather  sneeringly 
remarked,  — 

"  Is  not  this  the  carpenter's  son  ?  Is  not  his  mother  called 
Mary?  and  his  brethren,  James  and  Joses  and  Simon  and 
Judas  ?  And  his  sisters,  are  they  not  all  with  us  ?  Whence, 
then,  hath  this  man  all  these  things  ?  " 

Jesus  seems  to  have  been  discouraged  by  this  unbelieving 
spirit  on  their  part ;  for  he  soon  left  them,  after  healing  a  few 
of  their  sick,  saying  in  a  proverbial  phrase,  "  A.  prophet  is  not 
without  honor  save  in  his  own  country  and  in  his  own  house." 

Leaving  Nazareth,  he  again  set  out  upon  a  tour  through  the 
cities  and  villages  of  Galilee,  "teaching  in  their  synagogues, 
and  preaching  the  gospel  of  the  kingdom,  and  healing  every 
sickness  and  every  disease  among  the  people."  *  The  material 
and  the  spiritual  wants  of  the  people  deeply  oppressed  his 
spirit.  "  He  was  moved  with  compassion  on  them,  because 
they  fainted,  and  were  scattered  abroad  as  sheep  having  no 
shepherd."  In  view  of  this  moral  desolation,  he  called  his 
twelve  chosen  apostles  around  him,  and  said  to  them,  — 

"  The  harvest  truly  is  plenteous ;  but  the  laborers  are  few. 
Pray  ye,  therefore,  the  Lord  of  the  harvest,  thai  he  wiU  send 
forth  laborers  into  his  harvest." 

He  then,  having  endowed  them  with  miraculous   powers 

-  M'U.  iz.  35. 


68  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

^hat  they  might  cast  out  devils  and  cure  diseases,  sent  them 
forth  two  and  two  "  to  preach  the  kingdom  of  God."  In 
preparation  for  the  privations  and  toils  before  them,  he 
addressed  them  in  the  following  memorable  words  :  — 

"  Go  not  into  the  way  of  the  Gentiles,  and  into  any  city 
of  the  Samaritans  enter  ye  not ;  but  go  rather  to  the  lost 
sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel.  And,  as  ye  go,  preach,  saying, 
The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand.  Heal  the  sick,  cleanse 
the  lepers,  raise  the  dead,  cast  out  devils.  Freely  have  ye 
received ;  freely  give.  Provide  neither  gold  nor  silver  nor 
brass  in  your  purses,  nor  scrip  for  your  journey,  neither  two 
coats,  neither  shoes,  nor  yet  staves ;  for  the  workman  is 
worthy  of  his  meat. 

"  And,  into  whatsoever  city  or  town  ye  shall  enter,  inquire 
who  in  it  is  worthy ;  and  there  abide  till  ye  go  thence.  And, 
when  ye  enter  into  a  house,  salute  it.  And,  if  the  house  be 
worthy,  let  your  peace  come  upon  it;  but,  if  it  be  not  worthy, 
let  your  peace  return  to  you.  And  whosoever  shall  not  receive 
you,  nor  hear  your  words,  when  ye  depart  out  of  that  house 
or  city,  shake  off  the  dust  of  your  feet.  Verily  I  say  unto  you. 
It  shall  be  more  tolerable  for  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  in  the  day 
of  judgment  than  for  that  city. 

"  Behold,  I  send  you  forth  as  sheep  in  the  midst  of  wolves : 
be  ye,  therefore,  wise  as  serpents,  and  harmless  as  doves.  But 
beware  of  men  :  for  they  will  deliver  you  up  to  the  councils, 
and  they  will  scourge  you  in  their  synagogues  ;  and  ye  shall  be 
brought  before  governors  and  kings  for  my  sake,  for  a  testi- 
mony against  them  and  the  Gentiles.  But,  when  they  deliver 
you  up,  take  no  thought  how  or  what  ye  shall  speak ;  for  it 
shall  be  given  you  in  that  same  hour  what  ye  shall  speak.  For 
it  is  not  ye  that  speak,  but  the  Spirit  of  your  Father  which 
speaketh  in  you. 

"  And  the  brother  shall  deliver  up  the  brother  to  death,  and 
the  father  the  child  ;  and  the  children  shall  rise  up  against 
their  parents,  and  cause  them  to  be  put  to  death.  And  ye  shall 
be  hated  of  all  men  for  my  name's  sake  ;  but  he  that  endur- 
eth  to  the  end  shall  be  saved.     But,  when  they  persecute  you 


TOUR   THROUGH  GALILEE.  69 

in  this  city,  flee  ye  into  another ;  for  verily  I  say  unto  you,  Te 
shall  not  have  gone  over  the  cities  of  Israel  till  the  3on  of 
man  he  come.^ 

"  The  disciple  is  not  above  his  master,  nor  the  servant  above 
his  lord  It  is  enough  for  the  disciple  that  he  be  as  his'master, 
and  the  servant  as  his  lord.  If  they  have  called  the  master  of 
the  house  Beelzebub,  how  much  more  shall  tbcy  call  them  of 
his  household  !  Fear  them  not,  therefore  ;  for  there  is  nothing 
covered  that  shall  not  be  revealed,  and  hid  that  shall  not  be 
known.  What  I  tell  you  in  darkness,  that  speak  ye  in  the 
light ;  and  what  ye  hear  in  the  ear,  that  preach  ye  upon  the 
Louse-tops.  And  fear  not  them  which  kill  the  body,  but  are 
not  able  to  kill  the  soul ;  but  rather  fear  Him  which  is  able 
to  destroy  both  soul  and  body  in  hell. 

"  Are  not  two  sparrows  sold  for  a  farthing  ?  and  one  of 
them  shall  not  fall  on  the  ground  without  your  Father.  i>ut 
the  very  hairs  of  your  head  are  all  numbered.  Fear  ye  not, 
therefore  :  ye  are  of  more  value  than  many  sparrows.  Whtjso- 
ever,  therefore,  shall  confess  me  before  men,  him  will  I  confess 
also  before  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven ;  but  whosoevei 
shall  deny  me  before  men,  him  will  I  also  deny  before  my 
Father  which  is  in  heaven. 

"  Think  not  that  I  am  come  to  send  peace  on  earth  :  I  came 
not  to  send  peace,  but  a  sword.  For  I  am  come  to  set  a  man 
at  variance  against  his  father,  and  the  daughter  against  her 
mother,  and  the  daughter-in-law  against  her  mother-in-law; 
and  a  man's  foes  shall  be  they  of  his  own  household.  He 
that  loveth  father  or  mother  more  than  me  is  not  worthy 
of  me ;  and  he  that  loveth  son  or  daughter  more  than  me  is 
not  worthy  of  me.  And  he  that  taketh  not  his  cross,  and  fol- 
ioweth  after  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me.  He  that  findeth  his  life 
shall  lose  it;  and  he  that  loseth  his  life  for  my  sake  shall 
find  it. 

"  He  that  receiveth  you  receiveth  me;  and  he  that  rtrf  ?- 
eth  me  receiveth  Him  that  sent  me.     He  that  receiveth  a 

1  No  commentator  has  given  a  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  meaning;.  In  tbli 
oonuectloD,  of  these  l^st  words. 


70  EIHTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

prophet  in  the  name  of  a  prophet  shall  receive  a  prophet's 
reward ;  and  he  that  receiveth  a  righteous  man  in  the  name 
of  a  righteous  man  shall  receive  a  righteous  man's  reward. 
And  whosoever  shall  give  to  drink  unto  one  of  these  little 
ones  ^  a  cup  of  cold  water  only,  in  the  name  of  a  disciple, 
verily  I  say  unto  you,  He  shall  in  no  wise  lose  his  reward." 

Thus  commissioned  to  an  enterprise  of  toil,  poverty,  depriva- 
tion, and  suffering,  these  apostles  of  Jesus  went  forth  to  preach 
the  gospel  of  Christ  throughout  the  land.  Jesus  also  "departed 
thence  to  teach  and  to  preach  in  their  cities." 

1  So  called  from  their  want  of  -wealth,  rank,  learning,  and  whatever  the  world 
ealls  great. 


CHi^PTER    III. 


THE   TEACHINGS    OF   JESUS,    AND    MIRACLES    OF    HEAIjINO.  . 


Infamy  of  Herod.  —  Jesus  in  the  Desert.  —  Feeds  the  Five  Thousand.  —  Walks  oi 
the  Sea.  —  Preaclies  to  the  People.  —  Visits  Tyre  and  Sidon.  —  The  Syro-Phoeni 
clan  Woman.  — Cures  all  Manner  of  Diseases.  — Feeds  the  Four  Thousand. — 
Restores  Sight  to  a  Blind  Man.  —  Conversation  with  Peter.  —  The  Transfigura- 
tion. —  Cure  of  the  Lunatic.  —  Dispute  of  the  Apostles.  —  Law  of  Forgiveness, 
—  Visits  Jerusalem.  —  Plot  to  seize  Jesus.  —  The  Adulteress,  —  Jesus  the  Son  of 
God.  —  The  Blind  Man .  —  Parable  of  the  Good  Shepherd.  —  Raising  of  Lazarus, 


^^ 


[E  fame  of  Jesus  had  reached  the  ears  of  King 
Herod,  the  son  of  Herod  called  the  Great. 
This  wretched  man  had  already  ordered  the 
death  of  his  prisoner,  John  the  Baptist,  to 
gratify  a  woman  who  had  deserted  her  own  hus- 
band, and  had  induced  him  to  abandon  his  own 
wife,  that  they  might  be  united  in  guilty  bonds. 
Agitated  by  remorse,  he  feared  that  his  beheaded  victim  had 
risen  from  the  grave. 

It  would  seem  to  be  a  matter  deeply  to  be  regretted  that  we 
have  no  record  of  the  adventures  of  the  apostles  upon  their 
first  missionary  excursion.  At  its  close  they  returned  to  Jesus, 
who  was  at  Capernaum,  "  and  told  him  all  things,  both  what 
they  had  done  and  what  they  had  taught. 

"  And  he  said  unto  them,  Come  ye  yourselves  apart  into 
a  desert  place,  and  rest  a  while ;  for  there  were  many  coming 
and  going,  and  they  had  no  leisure  so  much  as  to  eat."  Upon 
the  northern  shore  of  the  lake,  there  was  the  city  of  Beth- 
eaida,  just  east  of  the  entrance  of  the  Jordan  into  the  Sea  of 

71 


72  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Galilee.  Near  that  place  there  was  a  desert  region  of  silencie 
and  solitude.  Embarking  in  one  of  the  fishermen's  boats, 
called  a  ship,  Jesus  and  his  apostles  sought  this  retreat ;  but 
the  excited  multitude  followed  upon  the  shore  on  foot.  There 
was  no  seclusion  for  Jesus.  An  immense  crowd  soon  again 
surrounded  him.  They  were  in  the  desert,  and,  without  food, 
were  in  danger  of  perishing.  Jesus,  "  moved  with  compassion 
towards  them,  received  them,  and  spake  unto  them  of  the  king- 
dom of  God,  and  healed  them  that  had  need  of  healing." 

Ascending  a  small  eminence,  Jesus  looked  with  tender  sym- 
pathy over  the  vast  and  hungry  throng,  amounting  to  five 
thousand  men,  besides  women  and  children.  His  disciples 
ventured  to  suggest,  that  as  night  was  coming  on,  and  they 
had  nothing  to  eat,  he  should  send  them  all  away,  that  in  the 
villages  around  they  might  obtain  food.  Jesus  requested  them 
to  ascertain  how  much  food  there  was  at  their  disposal.  Hav- 
ing made  inquiries,  they  reported  to  him  that  there  were  but 
five  barley-loaves  and  two  small  fishes. 

He  then  requested  the  multitude  to  sit  down  upon  the 
ground  m  companies  of  fifty.  Taking  the  loaves  and  the  fishes, 
he  looked  up  to  heaven,  and  blessed  and  brake.  The  disci- 
ples then  distributed  to  the  multitude ;  "  and  they  did  all  eat, 
and  were  filled.  And  they  took  up  of  the  fragments  which 
remained  twelve  baskets  full." 

Having  thus  fed  them,  Jesus  requested  them  all  to  retire 
to  their  homes.  At  the  same  time,  he  directed  his  disciples  to 
get  into  the  ship,  and  return  to  the  western  side  of  the 
lake.  He  himself,  entirely  alone,  went  up  into  a  mountain 
apart  to  nray.  The  gloom  of  night  soon  enveloped  the  whole 
region.  A.  violent  head  wind  arose,  tossing  the  little  ship 
which  contained  the  disciples  upon  a  boisterous  sea.  It  was 
the  darkest  hour  of  the  night,  just  before  the  dawn  of  the 
morning,  when  the  disciples,  toiling  at  the  oars  against  the 
contrary  wind,  were  afirighted  by  seeing  some  one  approach 
them,  walking  over  the  waves.  All  saw  the  apparition,  and 
were  so  greatly  alarmed,  that  they  cried  out  for  fear. 

But  soon  they  were  re-assured  by  hearing  the  well-known 


TEACHINGS,   AND   MIRACLES   OF  HEALING.  3 

voice  of  Jesus  saying  unto  them,  "Be  of  good  cheer:  it  is  I; 
be  not  afraid."  The  impulsive  Peter  immediately  exclaimed, 
"  Lord,  if  it  be  thou,  bid  me  come  unto  thee  on  the  water. 
And  he  said,  Come.  And,  when  Peter  was  come  down  out  of 
the  ship,  he  walked  on  the  water  to  go  to  Jesus.  But,  when 
he  saw  the  wind  boisterous,  he  was  afraid ;  and,  beginning  to 
sink,  he  cried,  saying.  Lord,  save  me !  And  immediately 
Jesus  stretched  forth  his  hand,  and  caught  him,  and  said  unto 
him,  0  thou  of  little  faith  !  wherefore  didst  thou  doubt  ?  " 

As  Jesus  entered  the  ship,  the  wind  ceased,  and  they  found 
themselves  entering  their  destined  port  near  Capernaum.  The 
crowd  still  thronged  Jesus  in  ever-increasing  numbers  wher- 
ever he  appeared.  They  came  swarming  over  the  lake  in 
boats,  and  by  all  paths  on  the  land,  "and  ran  through  that 
whole  region  round  about,  and  began  to  carry  about  in  beds 
those  that  were  sick,  where  they  heard  he  was.  And  whither- 
soever he  entered,  into  villages  or  cities  or  country,  they  laid 
the  sick  in  the  streets,  and  besought  him  that  they  might- 
touch  if  it  were  but  the  border  of  his  garment ;  and  as  many 
as  touched  him  were  made  whole." 

The  miracles  Jesus  performed  seemed  to  be  but  the  inci- 
dental part  of  his  mission,  intended  to  draw  attention  to  Lis 
preaching,  and  to  enforce  its  authority.  Surrounded  by  the 
turmoil,  of  which  we  can  form  but  a  feeble  conception,  we  have 
the  record  of  the  following  remarkable  sayings.  Alluding  to 
the  miracle  by  which  he  fed  the  five  thousand,  he  said,  — 

"  Labor  not  for  the  meat  which  perisheth,  but  for  that  meat 
which  endureth  unto  everlasting  life,  which  the  Son  of  man 
shall  give  unto  you  :  for  him  hath  God  the  Fatl  icr  sealed ; " 
that  is,  accredited  as  an  ambassador. 

When  some  one  alluded  to  the  miracle  which  Moses  per- 
formed in  the  gift  of  manna  in  the  desert,  Jesus  replied, 
"  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  Moses  gave  you  not  that  bread  from 
heaven.  For  the  bread  of  God  is  he  which  cometh  down  from 
heaven,  and  giveth  life  unto  the  world.  I  am  the  bread  of 
life :  he  that  cometh  to  me  shall  never  hunger ;  and  he  that 
believeth  on  me  shall  never  thirst.     All  that  the  Father  giveth 


74  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

me  shall  come  to  me  ;  and  liim  that  cometh  to  me  I  will  in  nc 
wise  cast  out.  For  I  came  down  from  heaven,  not  to  do  mine 
own  will,  but  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me.  And  this  is  the 
Father's  will  which  hath  sent  me,  —  that  of  all  which  he  hath 
given  me  I  should  lose  nothing,  but  should  raise  it  up  again 
at  the  last  day.  And  this  is  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me,  — 
that  every  one  which  seeth  the  Son,  and  believeth  on  him,  may 
have  everlasting  life ;  and  I  wiD  raise  him  up  at  the  last  day." 

It  is  not  strange  that  reflective  men  should  have  been  pro- 
foundly moved  by  such  extraordinary  utterances,  sustained  as 
they  were  by  the  most  astounding  miracles.  Here  was  a  man 
bom  in  their  own  neighborhood,  in  the  most  humble  ranks  of 
life,  saying,  "  I  am  the  bread  of  life ; "  "  He  that  cometh  to  me 
ehall  never  hunger ; "  "I  came  down  from  heaven ; "  "I  will 
raise  him  up  at  the  last  day." 

"  The  Jews  then  murmured  at  him  "  because  he  said,  "  I  am 
the  bread  which  came  down  from  heaven." 

But  Jesus  said  unto  them,  "  Murmur  not  among  yourselves. 
No  man  can  come  to  me,  except  the  Father,  which  hath  sent 
me,  draw  him ;  and  I  wiU  raise  him  up  at  the  last  day.  It  is 
written  in  the  prophets.  And  they  shall  be  all  taught  of  God. 
Every  man,  therefore,  that  hath  heard,  and  hath  learned  of  the 
Father,  cometh  unto  me.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,.  He  that 
believeth  on  me  hath  everlasting  life.  I  am  that  bread  of  life. 
Your  fathers  did  eat  manna  in  the  wilderness,  and  are  dead. 
This  is  the  bread  which  cometh  down  from  heaven,  that  a  man 
may  eat  thereof,  and  not  die.  I  am  the  living  bread  which 
came  down  from  heaven.  If  any  man  eat  of  this  bread,  he  shall 
live  forever ;  and  the  bread  that  I  wiU  give  is  my  flesh,  which 
I  will  give  for  the  life  of  the  world." 

Well  might  those  who  listened  to  such  extraordinary  teach- 
ings as  these  say,  "  Never  man  spake  like  this  man."  ''  How 
can  this  man  give  us  his  flesh  to  eat  ?  " 

Jesus  replied  in  still  more  extraordinary  and  apparently  in- 
explicable declarations  :  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you.  Except 
ye  eat  the  flesh  of  the  Son  of  man,  and  drink  his  blood,  ye  have 
no  life  in  you.     Whoso  eateth  niv  flpsh  and  drinketh  my  blood 


TEACHINGS,   AND  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING.  76 

hath  eternal  life ;  and  I  will  raise  him  up  at  the  last  day 
For  my  flesh  is  meat  indeed,  and  my  blood  is  drink  indeed. 
He  that  eateth  my  flesh  and  drinketh  my  blood  dwelleth  in 
me,  and  I  in  him.  As  the  living  Father  hath  sent  me,  and  I 
live  by  the  Father ;  so  he  that  eateth  me,  even  he  shall  live  by 
me." 

It  was  in  the  synagogue  at  Capernaum  that  Jesus  made 
these  remarks.  Even  his  disciples  were  perplexed,  and  said, 
"  This  is  a  hard  saying  :  who  can  hear  it  ?  "  Jesus,  knowing 
their  thoughts,  instead  of  explaining  his  meaning,  added,  — 

"  Doth  this  offend  you  ?  What  and  if  ye  shall  see  the  Son 
of  man  ascend  up  where  he  was  before  ?  It  is  the  spirit  that 
quickeneth  :  the  flesh  profiteth  nothing.  The  words  that  I 
speak  unto  you,  they  are  spirit,  and  they  are  life.  But  there 
are  some  of  you  that  believe  not."  ^ 

John,  who  records  these  words,  adds,  "  For  Jesus  knew  from 
the  beginning  who  they  were  that  believed  not,  and  who 
should  betray  him.  From  that  time  many  of  his  disciples 
went  back,  and  walked  no  more  with  him.  Then  said  Jesus 
unto  the  twelve,  Will  ye  also  go  away  ?  Then  Simon  Peter 
answered  him,  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go  ?  thou  hast  the 
words  of  eternal  life.  And  we  believe,  and  are  sure,  that  thou 
art  that  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God.  Jesus  answered, 
Have  not  I  chosen  you  twelve,  and  one  of  you  is  a  devil  ? 
He  spake  of  Judas  Iscariot,  the  son  of  Simon  ;  for  he  it 
was  that  should  betray  him,  being  one  of  the  twelve." 

The  Jewish  doctors  at  Jerusalem,  hearing  of  the  fame  of 
Jesus,  and  of  the  vast  influence  which  he  was  acquiring,  sent 
several  of  their  most  influential  men  to  Galilee  as  spies  upon 
his  conduct,  and,  if  possible,  to  entrap  him.  After  a  time, 
they  accused  the  disciples  of  Jesus  of  not  conforming  to  the 
ceremonial  observances  which  their  rules  enjoined,  —  particu- 
larly in  the  matter  of  not  performing  sufficiently  minute  and 
numerous  ablutions  before  eating,  or  after  returning  from  mar- 
ket. Jesus  silenced  them  by  showing  that  they,  by  their 
unwarranted  traditions,  had  established  burdensome  ceremo- 

'  ,)ohn  vi.  '25-71. 


76  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

nies  which  the  law  did  not  enjoin,  and  that  they  had  wickedly 
substituted  these  external  rites  for  obedience,  and  holiness  of 
heart. 

"  Ye  reject,"  said  he,  "  the  commandment  of  God,  that  ye 
may  keep  your  own  tradition.  Ye  hypocrites  !  well  did  Esaias 
prophesy  of  you,  saying.  This  people  draweth  nigh  unto  me 
with  their  mouth,  and  honoreth  me  with  their  lips ;  but  their 
heart  is  far  from  me." 

Soon  after  this,  Jesus  took  another  excursion  through  the 
whole  length  of  Galilee,  in  a  north-west  direction,  to  Tyre  and 
Sidon,  in  the  province  of  Syro-Phoenicia,  on  the  shore  of  the 
Mediterranean  Sea,  then  cities  of  great  commercial  importance. 
Sidon  was  at  the  distance  of  about  sixty  miles  from  Caper- 
naum. Both  of  these  cities  were  inhabited  mainly  by  idola- 
ters. Entering  a  house  in  that  distant  region,  a  woman  of  the 
country,  who  had  doubtless  heard  of  his  miraculous  powers, 
came  to  him,  and,  in  very  imploring  terms,  cried  out,  — 

"  Have  mercy  on  me,  0  Lord,  thou  son  of  David  !  my  daugh- 
ter is  grievously  vexed  with  a  devil." 

Jesus,  for  some  unexplained  reason,  for  a  time  paid  no  heetf 
to  her  cry.  At  length,  with  great  seeming  severity,  he  said 
to  her,  "  It  is  not  meet  to  take  the  children's  bread,  and  to  cast 
it  unto  the  dogs." 

She  replied,  "  Truth,  Lord  ;  yet  the  dogs  eat  of  the  crumbs 
which  fall  from  their  masters'  table." 

Jesus  answered,  "  0  woman !  great  is  thy  faith.  Be  it  unto 
thee  even  as  thou  wilt.  And  her  daughter  was  made  whole 
from  that  hour." 

This  is  aU  the  record  we  have  of  this  long  journey.  It  is 
the  general  assumption  that  Jesus  retreated  to  the  coasts  of 
Tyre  and  Sidon,  not  to  extend  his  ministry  there,  but  to  obtain 
transient  rest  from  its  exhausting  toils.  Returning,  he  crossed 
the  Jordan  several  miles  above  its  entrance  into  the  lake,  and 
approached  Gennesaret  on  its  eastern  shore.  But  his  footsteps 
coiJd  not  be  concealed, 

"  Great  multitudes  came  unto  him,  having  with  them  those 
that  were  lame,  blind,  dumb,  maimed,  and  many  others,  and 


1  CACHINGS,   AND  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING.  77 

cast  them  down  at  Jesus'  feet ;  and  he  healed  them,  insomuch 
that  the  multitude  wondered  when  they  saw  the  dumb  to 
speak,  the  maimed  to  be  whole,  the  lame  to  walk,  and  the  blind 
to  see  ;  and  they  glorified  the  God  of  Israel." 

One  man  was  brought  to  him  here  who  was  deaf,  blind,  and 
nearly  dumb.  His  friends  implored  Jesus  to  interpose  in  his 
behalf  Jesus  moistened  his  own  finger  with  spittle,  and  then 
touched  his  ears  and  his  tongue.  Looking  up  to  heaven,  he 
sighed,  and  said,  "  Be  opened  !  and  straightway  his  ears  were 
opened,  and  the  string  of  his  tongue  was  loosed,  and  he  spake 
plain." ^ 

It  is  worthy  of  notice,  that  Jesus,  in  performing  these  won- 
derful miracles,  manifested  no  spirit  of  exultation.  In  this 
case,  looking  up  to  heaven,  "  he  sighed."  This  same  pensive 
mood  of  mind  seemed  to  accompany  all  his  teachings  and  all 
his  actions. 

Jesus  was  here  again  in  the  comparatively  desolate  region  on 
the  east  side  of  the  lake.  Four  thousand  men,  besides  women 
and  children,  had  gathered  around  him.  "  I  have  compassion 
on  the  multitude,"  said  Jesus,  "  because  they  have  now  been 
with  me  three  days,  and  have  nothing  to  eat ;  and,  if  I  send 
them  away  to  their  own  houses  fasting,  they  will  faint  by  the 
way." 

There  were  but  seven  loaves  and  a  few  little  fishes  at  hand. 
Jesus,  as  before,  directed  all  the  multitude  to  sit  down  upon 
the  ground.  He  then  took  the  seven  loaves  and  the  fishes, 
gave  thanks,  and  brake  them,  and  gave  to  his  disciples  to  dis- 
tribute to  the  multitude.  When  all  had  been  abundantly  sat- 
isfied, seven  baskets  of  the  fragments  were  gathered  up. 

Dismissing  the  well-fed  multitude,  all  whose  sick  he  had 
also  healed,  Jesus  took  ship  and  crossed  the  lake  to  Dalma- 
nutha,  a  small  town  on  the  western  shore  of  the  lake,  about 
twenty  miles  south  of  Capernaum.  Some  scribes  and  Phari- 
sees came  to  him  in  a  cavilling  spirit,  demanding  that  he 
should  perform  some  miracle  for  their  special  entertainment  or 
satisfaction."    Saddened  by  the  unbelieving,  captious  disposi- 

>  Mark  vil.  35. 


78  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

tion  they  manifested,  "  lie  sighed  deeply  in  spirit ;  "  and,  refus- 
ing to  minister  to  their  entertainment,  he  left  them,  and 
returned  to  the  other  side  of  the  lake,  warning  his  disciples  to 
beware  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Pharisees  and  the  Sadducees. 
The  ship  landed  them  again  at  Bethsaida,  on  the  north-eastern 
shore  of  the  lake,  near  the  spot  where  he  had  performed  the 
miracle  of  feeding  the  multitude  with  the  loaves  and  the  tishes. 
A  blind  man  was  brought  to  him,  whom  he  healed  by  applying 
spittle  to  his  sightless  eyes.  He  then,  we  cannot  tell  why, 
sent  him  away  to  his  house,  saying,  "Neither  go  into  the 
town,  nor  tell  it  to  any  in  the  town."  ^ 

About  fifteen  miles  north  of  Bethsaida,  near  the  source  of 
the  Jordan,  was  the  somewhat  important  town  of  Csesarea  Phil- 
ippi.  There  were  a  few  scattered  villages  in  the  sparsely-set- 
tled region  between.  Sauntering  along  on  foot  in  one  of  the 
lonely  roads  of  this  secluded  and  romantic  region,  ascending 
the  eastern  banks  of  the  Jordan,  he  withdrew  for  a  little  time 
from  his  disciples  to  a  solitary  place  for  prayer.  Then,  return- 
ing to  them,  he  inquired,  — 

"  Whom  do  men  say  that  I  the  Son  of  man  am  ? 

"  And  they  said,  Some  say,  John  the  Baptist ;  some,  Elias ; 
and  others,  Jeremiah,  or  one  of  the  prophets." 

"But  whom  say  ye  that  I  am?"  he  added. 

Simon  Peter  replied,  "  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the 
living  God." 

It  seems  from  this  conversation  that  the  people  generally 
did  not  recognize  Jesus  as  the  long-expected  Messiah.  They 
supposed  that  he  was  to  appear  in  great  pomp  and  power,  drive 
the  Roman  invaders  out  of  Palestine,  and  restore  the  kingdom 
again  to  Israel.  But,  when  Peter  announced  so  emphatically 
his  conviction  that  Jesus  was  indeed  the  Messiah,  Jesus 
replied,  — 

"  Blessed  art  thou,  Simon,  son  of  Jonas ;  for  flesh  and  blood 
hath  not  revealed  it  unto  thee,  but  my  Father  which  is  in 
heaven.  And  I  say  also  unto  thee,  That  thou  art  Peter,  and 
upon  this  rock  I  will  build  my  church ;  and  the  gates  of  hell 

1  Mark  viii.  'ifS. 


TEACHINGS,    AND  MIRACLES   OF  HEALING.  79 

shall  not  prevail  against  it.  And  I  will  give  unto  thee  the 
keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  and  whatsoever  thou  shalt 
bind  on  earth  shall  be  bound  in  heaven,  and  whatsoever  thou 
shalt  loose  on  earth  shall  be  loosed  in  heaven." 

Upon  this  remarkable  declaration  has  been  reared  the  stU' 
pendous  fabric  of  the  Papal  Churcii,  with  the  assumption  that 
Peter  was  here  appointed  the  vicegerent  of  Christ,  with  power 
to  forgive  sin,  and  condemn  to  eternal  death ;  and  this  su- 
premacy was  to  be  extended  to  his  successors.  For  the  follow- 
ing reasons,  Protestants  reject  this  interpretation:  — 

1.  "  Upon  this  rock  "  means.  Upon  this  declaration  that  Jesus 
is  the  Christ ;  in  accordance  with  the  reiterated  assertion,  that 
"  other  foundation  can  no  man  lay  than  is  laid,  which  is  Jesus 
Christ."  2.  Whatever  may  be  meant  by  the  expression,  "  I 
will  give  unto  thee  the  keys  of  the  kingdom ;  and  whatsoever 
thou  shalt  bind  on  earth  shall  be  bound  in  heaven,  and  what- 
soever thou  shalt  loose  on  earth  shall  be  loosed  in  heaven,"  can- 
not be  intended  to  confer  any  special  supremacy  upon  Peter, 
since  the  same  authority  was  immediately  (Matt,  xviii.  18) 
extended  to  all  the  apostles. 

It  is  very  evident  that  Jesus  did  not  regard  Peter  as  infalli- 
ble ;  since  he  soon  administered  to  him  the  terrible  rebuke, 
"  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan !  "  It  is  equally  plain  that  the 
other  apostles  did  not  so  regard  him ;  since  it  is  recorded  (Gal.  ii. 
11)  that  Paul  withstood  him  to  his  face,  because  he  was  to  be 
blamed.  To  bind  and  to  loose,  in  Jewish  phrase,  was  to  prohibit 
and  to  permit.  By  this  phrase,  Jesus  announced  that  his 
apostles  were  to  be  divinely  guided  in  the  organization  of  the 
Church.  Such  rites  and  ceremonies  as  they  should  establish 
were  to  have  the  force  of  divine  authority. 

It  was  but  gradually  that  Jesus  revealed  the  great  mystery 
of  his  kingdom  to  his  disciples.  He  now,  for  the  first  time, 
began  to  unfold  to  them  the  truth,  — that  he  was  to  go  to  Jeru- 
salem, there  to  suffer  and  to  be  killed,  and  to  rise  again  from 
the  dead  on  the  third  day.  The  impetuous  Peter,  perhaps 
unduly  elated  by  the  commendation  he  had  just  received,  with 
the  grossest  impropriety  took  it  upon  himself  to  rebuke   liis 


80  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Lord  and  Master,  whom  he  had  just  confessed  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah. Jesus  turned  upon  him,  and,  with  terrible  severity, 
said,  — 

"  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  !  thou  art  an  offence  unto  me ; 
for  thou  savorest  not  [dost  not  understand]  the  things  that  be 
of  God,  but  those  that  be  of  men." 

Peter  needed  this  rebuke ;  and  it  certainly  must  have  satis- 
fied him  that  he  could  set  up  no  claim  to  infalhbility.  Jesus, 
continuing  his  address  to  his  apostles,  said,  in  words  which  will 
ever  vibrate  throughout  the  whole  Christian  world,  — 

"  If  any  man  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and 
take  up  his  cross,  and  follow  me.  For  whosoever  will  save  his 
life  shall  lose  it ;  and  whosoever  shall  lose  his  life  for  my  sake 
and  the  gospel's  shall  find  it.  For  what  shall  it  profit  a  man 
if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?  or 
what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his  soul  ?  For  the  Son 
of  man  shall  come  in  the  glory  of  his  Father,  with  his  angels ; 
and  then  he  shall  reward  every  man  according  to  his  works. 
Whosoever  shall  be  ashamed  of  me  and  of  my  words  in  this 
adulterous  and  sinful  generation,  of  him  also  shall  the  Son  of 
man  be  ashamed  when  he  cometh  in  the  glory  of  his  Father 
with  the  holy  angels.  Verily  I  say  unto  you.  That  there  be 
some  of  them  that  stand  here  which  shall  not  taste  of  death  till 
they  have  seen  the  kingdom  of  God  come  with  power."  ^ 

This  conversation  took  place  far  away  amidst  the  wild  and 
mountainous  solitudes  of  the  north,  in  the  vicinity  of  Caesarea 
Philippi.  Just  north  of  them  swept  the  magnificent  moun- 
tain-range of  Great  Hermon.  Rugged  peaks  were  rising  from 
the  plain  all  around.  Jesus,  who  ever  loved  the  stillness  of 
the  night  and  the  solitude  of  the  mountain,  took  with  him 
three  of  his  disciples,  Peter,  James,  and  John,  and  ascended 
one  of  these  eminences  "  to  pi  ay." 

"  And,  as  he  prayed,  he  was  transfigured  before  them ;  and 
his  face  did  shine  as  the  sun,  and  his  raiment  was  white  as  the 

1  Matthew  expresses  the  same  idea  by  the  words,  "  Till  they  see  the  Son  of  man 
coming  in  his  kingdom."  This  wonderful  expansion  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ  wai 
Vndeed  witnessed  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  and  in  many  subsequent  scenes. 


TEACHINGS,  AND  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING.  81 

light.  And  tliere  appeared  unto  them  Moses  and  Elias  talk- 
ing with  him ;  and  they  spake  of  his  decease  which  he  should 
accomplish  at  Jerusalem. 

"  But  Peter  and  they  that  were  with  him  were  heavy  with 
aleep  ;  and,  when  they  were  awake,  they  saw  his  glory,  and  the 
two  men  that  stood  with  him.  And  it  came  to  pass,  as  they 
departed  from  him,  Peter  said  unto  Jesus,  Master,  it  is  good 
for  us  to  be  here;  and  let  us  make  three  tabernacles, — one  for 
thee,  and  one  for  Moses,  and  one  for  Elias,  —  not  knowing  what 
he  said.  "While  he  yet  spake,  behold  a  bright  cloud  overshad- 
owed them.  And  there  came  a  voice  out  of  the  cloud,  which 
said.  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased : 
hear  ye  him. 

"  And,  when  the  disciples  heard  it,  they  fell  on  their  faces, 
and  were  sore  afraid.  And  Jesus  came  and  toucihed  them,  and 
said.  Arise,  and  be  not  afraid ;  and,  when  chey  had  lifted  up 
their  eyes,  they  saw  no  man  save  Jesus  only." 

Thus  there  were  three  witnesses  to  the  divine  attestation 
that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah.  Still,  when  they  were  descend- 
ing the  mountain,  Jesus  requested  them  to  "  tell  the  vision 
to  no  man  until  the  Son  of  man  be  risen  again  from  the 
dead." 

It  was  difficult  for  the  disciples  to  accept  the  doctrine  of  a 
Messiah  who  should  be  put  to  death :  it  caused  an  utter  be- 
wilderment of  all  their  preconceived  conceptions  of  a  Messiah 
triumphant  over  all  his  foes.  As  they  walked  along,  "  they 
questioned  one  with  another  what  the  rising  from  the  dead 
should  mean."  It  seems  that  they  were  thrown  into  a  state 
of  great  perplexity,  and  began  again  to  doubt  whether  Josus 
were  really  the  Messiah  ;  for  the  next  day  they  cautiously 
inquired  of  him  how  it  was  that  "the  scribes  say  that  Elias  must 
first  come."  Jesus  informed  them  that  Elias  had  already 
come,  in  the  person  of  John  the  Baptist ;  and  that,  as  the 
scribes  had  done  to  him  whatever  they  chose,  "  so  likewise 
shall  the  Son  of  man  suft'er  of  them." 

As  soon  as  Jesus  appeared,  descending  from  the  mountain,  a 
multitude  rapidly  gathered  around  him.     A  father,  who  had 


82  HISTORY  OF  CIIRISTIANITT. 

heard  of  the  fame  of  Jesus,  had  brought  his  son  to  be  healed 
who  was  suffering  terribly  from  a  foul  spirit.  He  had  arrived 
while  Jesus  was  upon  the  mountain,  and  had  applied  to  his 
disciples  for  aid.  As  soon  as  Jesus  appeared,  the  father  hast- 
ened to  him,  and,  falling  upon  his  knees  before  him,  said,  — 

"  Lord,  have  mercy  on  my  son ;  for  he  is  lunatic,  and  sore 
vexed :  for  ofttimes  he  falleth  into  the  fire,  and  oft  into  the 
water.  And  I  brought  him  to  thy  disciples,  and  they  could 
not  cure  him. 

"  Then  Jesus  answered  and  said,  0  faithless  and  perverse 
generation  !  how  long  shall  I  be  with  you  ?  how  long  shall  I 
sufier  you  ?     Bring  him  hither  to  me." 

The  child  was  brought  to  Jesus,  and  was  immediately  seized 
with  terrible  convulsions.  To  the  inquiry  of  Jesus,  "How 
long  is  it  ago  since  this  came  unto  him  ?  "  the  father  replied, 
"  Of  a  child ;  and  ofttimes  it  hath  cast  him  into  the  fire,  and 
into  the  waters,  to  destroy  him.  But,  if  thou  canst  do  any 
thing,  have  compassion  on  us,  and  help  us. 

"  Jesus  said  unto  him.  If  thou  canst  believe,  all  things  are 
possible  to  him  that  believeth. 

"  And  straightway  the  father  of  the  child  cried  out,  and  said 
with  tears.  Lord,  I  believe :  help  thou  mine  unbelief. 

"  When  Jesus  saw  that  the  people  came  running  together, 
he  rebuked  the  foul  spirit,  saying,  Thou  dumb  and  deaf  spirit, 
I  charge  thee,  come  out  of  him,  and  enter  no  more  into  him. 

"And  the  spirit  cried,  and  rent  him  sore,  and  came  out  of 
him.  And  he  was  as  one  dead  ;  insomuch  that  many  said.  He 
is  dead.  But  Jesus  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  lifted  him  up, 
and  delivered  him  again  to  his  father." 

The  disciples  soon  after  came  to  Jesus,  and  inquired  of  him, 
privately,  why  they  could  not  cast  out  that  evil  spirit.  To  this 
Jesus  made  the  remarkable  reply,  not  easily  to  be  fully  com- 
prehended by  our  weak  faith,  — 

"  Because  of  your  unbelief:  for  verily  I  say  unto  you.  If 
ye  have  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard-seed,  ye  shall  say  unto  this 
mountain  [probably  pointing  to  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration], 
llemove   hence   to   yonder  place,  and    it   shall  remove ;    arc^ 


TEACHINGS,   AND  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING.  83 

nothing  shall  be  impossible  unto  you.  Howbeit,  this  kind 
goeth  not  out  but  by- prayer  and  fasting."  ^ 

Jesus  now  commenced  another  tour  through  the  cities  and 
villages  of  Galilee,  preaching  the  gospel  and  healing  the  sick, 
everywhere  creating  amazement  "at  the  mighty  power  of  God." 
WhiJe  on  this  tour,  he  again  informed  his  disciples,  in  most 
emphatic  terms,  of  his  approaching  death  at  Jerusalem. 

"  The  Son  of  man,"  said  he,  "  is  delivered  into  the  hands  of 
men,  and  they  shall  kill  him ;  and,  after  that  he  is  killed,  he 
shall  rise  the  third  day."  ^ 

But  the  apostles  could  not  understand  how  the  Messiah  could 
be  put  to  death.  "  They  were  exceeding  sorry,"  and  "  under- 
stood not  that  saying,"  and  "  were  afraid  to  ask  him."  As  the 
apostles  journeyed  along,  following  the  footsteps  of  Jesus,  a 
discussion  rose  among  them  as  to  who  would  be  pre-eminent  in 
the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah. 

"  Jesus,  perceiving  the  thought  of  their  heart,  asked  them. 
What  was  it  that  ye  disputed  among  yourselves  by  the  way  ? 
But  they  held  their  peace ;  for  by  the  way  they  had  disputed 
among  themselves  who  should  be  the  greatest.  And  he  sat 
down,  and  called  the  twelve,  and  saith  unto  them.  If  any  man 
desire  to  be  first,  the  same  shall  be  last  of  all,  and  servant  of 
aU.  And  he  took  a  child,  and  set  him  in  the  midst  of  them ; 
fl,nd,  when  he  had  taken  him  in  his  arms,  he  said  unto  them. 
Verily  I  say  unto  you.  Except  ye  be  converted,  and  become  as 
\ittle  children,  ye  shall  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
Whosoever,  therefore,  shall  humble  himself  as  this  little  child, 
the  same  is  greatest  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  And  whoso 
?hall  receive  one  such  little  child  in  my  name,  receiveth  me  ;  and 
whoso  shall  receive  me,  receiveth,  not  me,  but  Him  that  sent  me." 

When  they  had  returned  to  Capernaum,  the  question  rose 
respecting  paying  tribute-money,  which  Jesus  paid  by  sending 
Peter  to  the  lake  to  catch  a  fish,  in  whose  mouth  a  piece  of 
money  was  found.  Jesus  also  made  some  very  striking  remarks, 
recorded  by  both  Matthew  and  Mark,  respecting  the  fearful 
consequence  of  tempting  others  to  sin.^ 

»  Matt.  xvU.  20,  21.  =  Matt,  xviii.  2-4;  Mark  ii.  31,  33-36. 

»  Mntt.  xviii.  6-y ;  Mark  ix.  +4-50. 


84  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

He  also  introduced  the  parable  of  the  lost  sheep,  gave  them 
instructions  respecting  their  dealings  with  a  Christian  brother 
who  should  fall  into  sin,  and  conferred  upon  them  all  the  same 
authority  to  establish  rules  for  the  government  of  the  Church 
which  before  he  had  apparently  conferred  upon  Peter.  "  Whatso- 
ever ye  shall  bind  on  earth  shall  be  boimd  in  heaven,  and  what- 
soever shall  be  loosed  on  earth  shall  be  loosed  in  heaven."  He 
then  assured  them,  that,  in  the  organization  of  the  Church,  if 
any  two  should  agree  about  the  arrangement  of  afifairs,  it  should 
be  ratified  by  God.  "  If  two  of  you  shall  agree  on  earth  as 
touching  any  thing  that  they  shal.  ask,  it  shall  be  done  for 
them  of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven  ;  for  where  two  or  three 
are  gathered  together  in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the  midst 
of  them." 

When  Peter  asked  Jesus  if  he  should  forgive  a  brother  who 
had  sinned  against  him  seven  times,  he  replied,  "  I  say  not 
unto  thee,  Until  seven  times ;  but.  Until  seventy  times  seven." 
He  then  introduced  the  parable  of  the  king  and  his  debtors. 

The  Jews'  feast  of  tabernacles  was  at  hand.  Jesus  had 
thus  far  performed  his  miracles  and  proclaimed  his  teachings 
almost  entirely  in  the  remote  province  of  Galilee.  His  breth- 
ren urged  him  to  go  up  to  Jerusalem,  the  thronged  metropolis, 
that  he  might  "  show  himself  to  the  world."  They  said  this 
sarcastically ;  for,  notwithstanding  all  his  mighty  works,  it  is 
recorded  that  "  his  brethren  "  did  not  believe  in  him.  Jesus, 
however,  said  that  the  time  had  not  yet  come  for  him  to  go  to 
Jerusalem ;  adding,  "  The  world  cannot  hate  you ;  but  me  it 
hateth,  because  I  testify  of  it  that  the  works  thereof  are  evil." 
Jesus  remained  in  Galilee  until  after  his  brethren  had  gone  up 
to  Jerusalem.  At  the  feast,  there  was  a  very  general  inquiry 
where  Jesus  was.  It  was  supposed,  that,  being  a  Jew,  he  cer- 
tainly would  not  abstain  from  being  present.  There  was  also 
great  diversity  of  opinion  expressed  respecting  his  character; 
some  saying  that  he  was  a  good  man,  while  others  said  that 
he  was  deceiving  the  people. 

About  the  middle  of  the  feast,  Jesus  made  his  appearance, 
and,  entering  the  temple,  taught  the  people.     His  words  and 


TEACHINGS,  AND  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING.  85 

manner  excited  the  surprise  of  all  who  heard  him,  leading 
them  to  say,  "How  knoweth  this  man  letters,  having  never 
learned  ?  "     Jesus  replied,  — 

"  My  doctrine  is  not  mine,  but  His  that  sent  me.  If  any 
man  will  do  his  will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine,  wi' ether  it 
be  of  God,  or  whether  I  speak  of  myself.  He  that  speaketh 
of  himself  seeketh  his  own  glory ;  but  he  that  seeketh  His 
glory  that  sent  him,  the  same  is  true,  and  no  unrighteousness 
is  in  him.  Did  not  Moses  give  you  the  law  ?  and  yet  none  of 
you  keepeth  the  law.     Why  go  ye  about  to  kill  me  ?  " 

The  people  replied  in  words  which  showed  their  rising  hatred, 
"  Thou  hast  a  devil.     Who  goeth  about  to  kill  thee  ?  " 

Jesus,  referring  to  the  healing  of  the  man  at  the  Pool  of 
Bethesda,  said,  "  I  have  done  one  work,  and  ye  all  marvel." 
Then,  to  show  them  the  unreasonableness  of  their  hostility  to 
him  because  he  thus  healed  a  man  on  the  sabbath  day,  he  said, 
"  Moses  gave  unto  you  circumcision ;  and  ye,  on  the  sabbath 
day,  circumcise  a  man.  If  a  man  on  the  sabbath  day  receive 
circumcision,  that  the  law  of  Moses  should  not  be  broken,  are 
ye  angry  at  me  because  I  have  made  a  man  every  whit  whole 
on  the  sabbath  day  ?  " 

The  appearance  of  Jesus  and  his  teaching  excited  great 
commotion  in  Jerusalem ;  and  there  was  much  discussion 
among  the  people,  whether  he  were  the  Messiah.  The  rulers 
were  bewildered.  They  wished  to  arrest  him  and  silence  him ; 
but  there  was  nothing  in  what  he  said  or  did  which  could  war- 
rant them  in  any  acts  of  violence.  Many  of  the  people  in 
Jerusalem  expressed  the  belief  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah, 
saying,  "  When  Christ  cometh,  will  he  do  more  miracles 
than  this  man  hath  done  ?  "  The  Pharisees  and  chief  priests, 
alarmed  by  these  indications  of  increasing  popular  favor, 
secretly  sent  officers  to  take  him ;  but,  though  Jesus  continued 
teaching  the  people  without  adopting  any  measures  of  conceal- 
ment or  defence,  for  some  unexplained  reason  the  officers  did 
not  arrest  him.  He,  however,  made  an  announcement  to  the 
people,  which,  at  the  time,  they  did  not  fully  comprehend,  — 
that,  when  his  appointed  time  came,  he  should  return  to  hia 


86  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 

Father  in  heaven,  and  that  then  they  would  seek  him  in  vain. 
"  Yet  a  little  while,"  said  he,  "  am  I  with  you ;  and  then  I  go 
unto  Him  that  sent  me.  Ye  shall  seek  me,  and  shall  not  find 
me ;  and  where  I  am,  thither  ye  cannot  come."  ^ 

Thus  he  continued  boldly  teaching  until  the  last  great  day 
of  the  feast,  when,  in  an  emphatic  voice,  he  uttered  in  the  tem- 
ple the  memorable  words,  so  assuming  if  he  were  but  a  man, 
so  suitable  if  he  were  divine,  "  If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come 
unto  me  and  drink ; "  adding,  in  phrase  still  figurative,  that 
those  who  thus  partook  of  the  fountain  of  living  waters  should 
bestow  liberal  and  constant  blessings  on  their  fellow-men. 

When  the  ofl&cers  who  had  been  sent  to  arrest  Jesus  returned 
without  him,  they  replied  to  the  inquiry  why  they  had  done 
so,  "Never  man  spake  like  this  man."  The  Pharisees 
scornfully  retorted,  alluding  to  the  undoubted  fact  that  it  was 
the  common  people  who  generally  accepted  Jesus,  "Are  ye 
also  deceived  ?  Have  any  of  the  rulers  or  of  the  Pharisees 
believed  on  him  ?  But  this  people  who  knoweth  not  the  law 
are  cursed." 

Here  Nicodemus,  who  was  a  member  of  the  council,  and 
who,  several  months  before,  had  visited  Jesus  by  night,  ventured 
timidly  to  interpose.  "Doth  our  law,"  he  inquired,  "judge 
any  man  before  it  hear  him  and  know  what  he  doeth  ?  "  He 
was  silenced  by  the  contemptuous  and  somewhat  menacing 
reply)  "  Art  thou  also  of  Galilee  ?  Search  and  look ;  for  out 
of  G-alilee  ariseth  no  prophet." 

While  the  rulers  were  thus  seeking  to  entrap  Jesus,  he  left 
the  city,  and  ascended  the  greensward  of  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
about  a  mile  east  of  the  walls.  Here  it  seems  that  he  spent 
the  night  beneath  the  stars  of  that  serene  and  genial  clime. 
Early  the  next  morning,  he  returned  to  the  temple.  A  multi- 
tude, as  usual,  gathered  around  him.  The  following  remarkable 
scene  which  then  ensued  cannot  be  better  described  than  in 
the  language  of  the  inspired  writers  :  — 

"  And  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  brought  vinto  him  a  woman 
taken  in  adultery ;  and,  when  they  had  set  her  in  the  midst,  they 
say  unto  him,  Master,  this  woman  was  taken  in  adultery,  in 

i  John  vii.  34. 


TEACHINGS,   AND  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING.  87 

the  very  act.  Now,  Moses,  in  the  law,  commanded  us  that 
such  should  be  stoned;  but  what  sayest  thou  ?  This  they  said 
tempting  him,  that  they  might  accuse  him. 

"  But  Jesus  stooped  do\vn,  and  with  his  finger  wrote  on  the 
ground.  So,  when  they  continued  asking  him,  he  lifted  up 
himself,  and  said  unto  them.  He  that  is  without  sin  among  you, 
let  him  first  cast  a  stone  at  her.  And  again  he  stooped  down, 
and  wrote  on  the  ground.  And  they  which  heard  it,  being 
convicted  by  conscience,  went  out  one  by  one,  beginning  at 
the  eldest,  even  unto  the  last ;  and  Jesus  was  left  alone,  and 
the  woman  standing  in  the  midst.  When  Jesus  had  lifted  up 
himself,  and  saw  none  but  the  woman,  he  said  unto  her.  Woman, 
where  are  those  thine  accusers  ?  hath  no  man  condemned  thee  ? 
She  said,  No  man.  Lord.  And  Jesus  said  unto  her,  Neither  do 
I  condemn  thee  :  go,  and  sin  no  more."  ^ 

Then,  turning  to  the  people  assembled  in  the  temple,  he 
said,  in  phrases  which  will  cause  every  thoughtful  mind  to 
pause  and  ponder,  "  I  am  the  light  of  the  world.  He  that 
foUoweth  me  shall  not  walk  in  darkness,  but  shall  have  the 
light  of  life." 

These  were,  indeed,  very  extraordinary  assertions  upon  any 
other  assumption  than  that  he  was  truly  the  "  brightness  of 
the  Father's  glory,  and  the  express  image  of  his  person."  The 
Pharisees  accused  him  of  boasting,  saying,  "Thou  bearest  rec- 
ord of  thyself :  thy  record  is  not  true." 

Jesus  re-aflfirmed  his  declaration,  saying,  "Though  I  bear 
record  of  myself,  yet  my  record  is  true :  for  I  know  whence  I 
came,  and  whither  I  go ;  but  ye  cannot  tell  whence  I  come, 
and  whither  I  go.  Ye  judge  after  the  flesh  :  I  judge  no  man. 
And  yet,  if  I  judge,  my  judgment  is  true ;  for  I  am  not  alone, 
but  I  and  the  Father  that  sent  me.  It  is  also  written  in 
your  law,  that  the  testimony  of  two  men  is  true.  I  am  one 
that  bear  witness  of  myself;  and  the  Father  that  sent  me 
beareth  witness  of  me."  ^ 

To  this  they  replied  with  the  question,  "  Where  is  thy  Fa- 
ther ?  "  They  had  before  sought  to  kill  him  because  he  said 
that  God  was  his  Father. 

>  John  vili.  2-7.  '  John  viii.  13-18. 


88  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Jesus  answered,  "  Ye  neither  know  me,  nor  my  Father :  if 
ye  had  known  me,  ye  should  have  known  my  Father  also.  I 
go  my  way ;  and  ye  shall  seek  me,  and  shall  die  in  your  sins : 
whither  I  go  ye  cannot  come.  Ye  are  from  beneath  ;  I  am 
from  above  :  ye  are  of  this  world ;  I  am  not  of  this  world. 
1  said,  therefore,  unto  you,  that  ye  shall  die  in  your  sins ;  for, 
if  ye  believe  not  that  I  am  he,  ye  shall  die  in  your  sins." 

They  responded,  "  Who  art  thou  ?  " 

Jesus,  evading  an  explicit  answer,  replied,  "  Even  the  same 
that  I  said  unto  you  from  the  beginning.  I  have  many  things 
to  say  and  to  judge  of  you :  but  He  that  sent  me  is  true  ;  and 
I  speak  to  the  world  those  things  which  I  have  heard  of  him. 
When  ye  have  lifted  up  the  Son  of  man,  then  shall  ye  know 
that  I  am  he,  and  that  I  do  nothing  of  myself;  but,  as  my 
Father  hath  taught  me,  I  speak  these  things.  And  He  that 
sent  me  is  with  me :  the  Father  hath  not  left  me  alone ;  for 
I  do  always  those  things  that  please  him." 

We  are  informed  that  many  were  convinced  by  these  words 
that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah.  Addressing  them,  he  said,  "  If 
ye  continue  in  my  word,  then  are  ye  my  disciples  indeed ;  and 
ye  shall  know  the  truth,  and  the  truth  shall  make  you  free." 

But  his  opponents  rejoined,  "We  be  Abraham's  seed,  and 
were  never  in  bondage  to  any  man.  How  sayest  thou.  Ye 
shall  be  made  free  ?  " 

Jesus  replied,  *'  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you.  Whosoever 
committeth  sin  is  the  servant  of  sin.  And  the  servant  abideth 
not  in  the  house  forever;  but  the  Son  abideth  ever.  If  the 
Son,  therefore,  shall  make  you  free,  ye  shall  be  free  indeed.  I 
know  that  ye  are  Abraham's  seed ;  but  ye  seek  to  kiU  me  be- 
cause my  word  hath  no  place  in  you.  I  speak  that  which  I 
have  seen  with  my  Father ;  and  ye  do  that  which  ye  have  seen 
with  your  father." 

"Abraham,"  said  they,  "is  our  father." 

Jesus  rephed,  "  If  ye  were  Abraham's  children,  ye  would  do 
the  works  of  Abraham.  But  now  ye  seek  to  kill  me,  a  man 
that  hath  told  you  the  truth,  which  I  have  heard  of  God :  this 
did  not  Abraham.     Ye  do  the  deeds  of  your  father." 


TEACHINGS,  AND  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING.  89 

Then  said  they  unto  him,  "  We  be  not  bom  of  fornication. 
We  have  one  Father,  even  God," 

"  If  God  were  your  Father,"  Jesus  rejoined,  *'  ye  would  love 
me  ;  for  I  proceeded  forth  and  came  from  God.  Neither  came 
I  of  myself;  but  he  sent  me.  Why  do  ye  not  understand  my 
speech  ?  because  ye  cannot  hear  my  word.  Ye  are  of  your 
father  the  devil,  and  the  lusts  of  your  father  ye  will  do.  He 
was  a  murderer  from  the  beginning,  and  abode  not  in  the 
truth,  because  there  is  no  truth  in  him.  When  he  speaketh  a 
lie,  he  speaketh  of  his  own ;  for  he  is  a  liar,  and  the  father  of 
it.  And,  because  I  tell  you  the  truth,  ye  believe  not.  Which 
of  you  convinceth  me  of  sin  ?  And,  if  I  say  the  truth,  why 
do  ye  not  believe  me  ?  He  that  is  of  God  heareth  God's 
word.  Ye,  therefore,  hear  them  not,  because  ye  are  not  of 
God." 

The  rulers,  growing  more  and  more  exasperated  by  this 
plainness  of  speech,  replied,  "  Say  we  not  well  that  thou  art  a. 
Samaritan,  and  hast  a  devil  ?  " 

Jesus  answered,  "I  have  not  a  devil;  but  I  honor  my 
Father,  and  ye  do  dishonor  me.  And  I  seek  not  mine  own 
glory  :  there  is  one  that  seeketh  and  judgeth.  Verily,  verily, 
I  say  unto  you,  If  a  man  keep  my  saying,  he  shall  never  see 
death." 

His  opponents  replied,  "Now  we  know  that  thou  hast  a 
devil.  Abraham  is  dead,  and  the  prophets  ;  and  thou  sayest. 
If  a  man  keep  my  saying,  he  shall  never  taste  of  death. 
Art  thou  greater  than  our  father  Abraham,  which  is  dead  ? 
and  the  prophets  are  dead.     Whom  makest  thou  thyself  ?  " 

Jesus  answered,  "  If  I  honor  myself,  my  honor  is  nothing. 
It  is  my  Father  that  honoreth  me,  of  whom  ye  say  that  he  is 
your  God.  Yet  ye  have  not  known  him.  But  I  know  him ; 
and,  if  I  should  say  I  know  him  no.t,  I  shall  be  a  liar  like 
unto  you  :  but  I  know  him,  and  keep  his  saying.  Your 
father  Abraham  rejoiced  to  see  my  day ;  and  he  saw  it,  and 
was  glad." 

Then  said  the  Jews,  "  Thou  art  not  yet  fifty  years  old ;  and 
hast  thou  seen  Abraham  ?  " 


90  'history  of  CRRISTIAmTY. 

Jesus  replied,  "  Before  Abraham  was,  I  am." 

The  exasperation  of  his  foes  now  exceeded  all  hounds,  and 
they  began  to  pick  up  stones  to  stone  him  ;  but  Jesus,  exer- 
ciaiug  that  marvellous  power  by  which  he  had  before  extricated 
himself  from  the  violence  of  his  enemies,  quietly  retired  from 
the  temple,  passing  through  the  midst  of  them. 

Entering  the  streets  of  the  city,  he  met  a  man  blind  from 
his  birth.  His  disciples  asked  the  question  which  has  been  re- 
echoed -by  ail  thoughtful  minds  from  that  day  to  this :  "  Mas- 
ter, who  did  pin,  this  man,  or  his  parents,  that  he  was  born 
bliiid?" 

Jesus  replied,  that  his  calamity  was  not  to  be  attributed  to 
any  paxticular  sin  of  himself  or  his  parents.  "  Neither  hath 
this  man  sinned,  nor  his  parents ;  but  that  the  works  of  God 
should  be  made  manifest  in  him.  I  must  work  the  works  of 
Him  that  sent  me  while  it  is  day :  the  night  cometh,  when  no 
man  can  work.  As  long  as  I  am  in  the  world,  I  am  the  light 
of  the  world." 

He  then  anointed  the  eyes  of  the  blind  man  with  clay 
moistened  with  spittle,  and  directed  him  to  wash  in  the  Pool 
of  Siloam.  He  did  so,  and  his  sight  was  restored.  It  was 
the  sabbath  day^  The  Pharisees,  enraged,  said,  "  This  man  is 
not  of  God,  because  he  keepeth  not  the  sabbath  day."  Others, 
however,  replied,  "How  can  a  man  that  is  a  sinner  do  such 
miracles  ?  "  And  thus  all  Jerusalem  was  agitated  by  diversity 
of  opinion.  The  rulers,  in  their  madness,  had  passed  a  decree, 
that,  if  any  one  should  confess  that  he  believed  that  Christ 
was  the  Messiah,  he  should  be  put  out  of  the  synagogue ;  that 
is,  he  should  be  exposed  to  the  terrible  doom  of  excommuni- 
cation, which  was  attended  with  awful  maledictions,  exclu- 
sion from  all  intercourse  with  society,  and  which  prohibited 
every  one  from  ministering  in  any  way  whatever  to  his  wants. 

Still  the  excitement  in  the  city  was  every  hour  rising  higher 
and  higher.  The  blind  man  was  universally  known.  His 
miraculous  cure  no  one  could  deny.  Neither  the  blind  man 
nor  his  parents  dared  to  avow  their  belief  that  Jesus  was  the 
Messiah.     When  the  parents  were  questioned,  they  referred 


TEACHINGS,   AND  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING.  91 

the  questioner  to  their  son,  saying,  "  He  is  of  age :  ask  him." 
When  the  son  was  questioned,  he  was  equally  cautious  in  his 
responses.  The  Pharisees  who  approached  him  said.  "  Give 
God  the  praise :  we  know  that  this  man  is  a  sinner." 

He  replied,  "  Whether  he  be  a  sinner  or  no,  I  know  not. 
One  thing  I  know,  that,  whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I  see." 

To  their  reiterated  inquiry,  "  How  opened  he  thine  eyes  ?  " 
he  replied,  somewhat  provoked,  "I  have  told  you  already,  and 
ye  did  not  hear.  Wherefore  would  ye  hear  it  again  ?  Will 
ye,  also,  be  his  di.^ciples  ?  " 

This  taunt  increased  their  exasperation :  and  they  retorted, 
"  Thou  art  his  disciple  ;  but  we  are  Moses'  disciples.  We  know 
that  God  spake  unto  Moses :  as  for  this  fellow,  we  know  not 
from  whence  he  is." 

With  unexpected  boldness,  the  man  rejoined,  "  Why,  herein 
is  a  marvellous  thing,  that  ye  know  not  whence  he  is ;  and  yet 
he  hath  opened  mine  eyes.  Now,  we  know  that  God  heareth 
not  sinners  ;  but  if  any  man  be  a  worshipper  of  God,  and 
doeth  his  will,  him  he  heareth.  Since  the  world  began  was  it 
not  heard  that  any  man  opened  the  eyes  of  one  that  was  born 
blind.     If  this  man  were  not  of  God,  he  could  do  nothing." 

For  this  speech,  cautious  as  it  was,  the  rulers  excommuni- 
cated the  man.  Jesus  heard  of  it,  and  went  in  search  of  him. 
Having  found  him,  he  inquired,  "  Dost  thou  believe  on  the  Son 
of  God  ?  "  The  man  replied,  "  Who  's  he,  Lord,  that  I  might 
believe  on  him  ?  "  Jesus  said,  "  Thoi  hast  both  seen  him,  and 
it  is  he  that  talketh  with  thee." 

To  this  emphatic  declaration,  that  Tesus  was  the  Messiah, 
the  man  replied,  "Lord,  1  believe."  The  inspired  historian 
adds,  "And  he  worshipped  him;"  thai  is,  paid  homage  to  him 
as  the  Messiah. 

Jesus  then  delivered  to  those  who  hai  gathered  around  him 
the  parable  of  the  good  shepherd,  and  explained  it,  saying,  — 

"lam  the  good  shepherd,  and  kno'v  my  sheep,  and  am 
known  of  mine.  As  the  Father  knoweth  me,  even  so  know  I 
the  Father;  and  I  lay  down  my  life  for  the  sheep.  And  other 
sheep  I  have,  which  are  not  of  this  fold.     Them  also  I  must 


92  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITr. 

bring,  and  they  shall  hear  my  voice ;  and  there  shall  be  one 
fold  and  one  shepherd.  Therefore  doth  my  Father  love  me, 
because  I  lay  down  my  life  that  I  might  take  it  again.  No 
man  taketh  it  from  me ;  but  I  lay  it  down  of  myself.  I  have 
power  to  lay  it  down,  and  I  have  power  to  take  it  again.  This 
commandment  have  I  received  of  my  Father." 

Such  remarks  as  these  increased  the  excitement  and  the 
diversity  of  opinion  which  prevailed  respecting  Jesus.  Many 
of  them  said,  "He  hath  a  devil,  and  is  mad:  why  hear  ye 
him?"  Others  said,  "These  are  not  the  words  of  him  that 
hath  a  devil :  can  a  devil  open  the  eyes  of  the  blind  ?  " 

It  is  probable,  that,  after  this,  -Jesus  returned  to  Capernaum 
in  Galilee.  Two  months  passed,  during  which  he  was  un- 
doubtedly active  in  his  mission  ;  but  we  have  no  record  what- 
ever of  any  thing  which  he  said  or  did.  The  feast  of  the 
dedication  commenced  on  the  fifteenth  day  of  December,  and 
continued  eight  days.  We  find  Jesus  again  at  Jerusalem. 
The  record  of  John  is  as  follows :  — 

"  And  it  was  at  Jerusalem  the  feast  of  the  dedication,  and 
it  was  winter.  And  Jesus  walked  in  the  temple,  in  Solomon's 
porch.  Then  came  the  Jews  round  about  him,  and  said  unto 
him.  How  long  dost  thou  make  us  to  doubt  ?  If  thou  be  the 
Christ,  tell  us  plainly." 

Jesus  replied,  "  I  told  you,  and  ye  believed  not.  The  works 
that  I  do  in  my  Father's  name,  they  bear  witness  of  me.  But 
ye  believe  not,  because  ye  are  not  of  my  sheep,  as  I  said  unto 
you.  My  sheep  hear  my  voice,  and  I  know  them,  and  they 
follow  me  :  and  I  give  unto  them  eternal  life ;  and  they  shall 
never  perish,  neither  shall  any  man  pluck  them  out  of  my 
hand.     I  and  my  Father  are  one."  ^ 

This  assertion  of  the  oneness  of  Jesus  with  the  Father  so 
exasperated  the  unbelieving  Jews,  that  they  took  up  stones  to 
stone  him.  Jesus  said  to  them,  "Many  good  works  have  I 
showed  you  from  my  Father :  for  which  of  those  works  do 
ye  stone  me  ?  " 

They  replied,  "  For  a  good  work  we  stone  thee  not,  but  for 

1  John  X.  25-31. 


TEACHINGS,  AND  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING.  93 

blasphemy,  and  because  that  thou,  being  a  man,  makest  thy- 
self God," 

Jesus  replied  in  words  which  the  Jews  understood  to  be  re- 
affirming his  statement,  "  Is  it  not  written  in  your  law,  I  said, 
Ye  are  gods  ?  If  he  called  them  gods  unto  whom  the  word 
of  God  came,  and  the  scripture  cannot  be  broken,  say  ye  of 
him  whom  the  Father  hath  sanctified  and  sent  into  the  world. 
Thou  blasphemest,  because  I  said  I  am  the  Son  of  God  ? 
If  I  do  not  the  works  of  my  Father,  believe  me  not ;  but  if 
I  do,  though  ye  believe  not  me,  believe  the  works ;  that  ye 
may  know  and  believe  that  the  Father  is  in  me,  and  I  in  him." 

This  renewed  assertion  of  his  equality  with  God  induced 
the  Jews  again  to  take  up  stones  to  stone  him ;  "  but  he  es- 
caped out  of  their  hands."  Leaving  Jerusalem,  he  crossed 
the  River  Jordan,  and  entered  that  wilderness  region  which  had 
been  rendered  memorable  by  the  preaching  and  the  baptism  of 
John.  There,  at  a  distance  of  about  a  hundred  miles  from 
his  implacable  foes,  beneath  the  shadows  of  Mount  Gilead,  he 
resumed  preaching  the  gospel  to  the  multitudes  of  the  common 
people  who  resorted  to  hear  him.  It  is  written  that  "  many 
believed  on  him  there." 

A  few  miles  east  from  Jerusalem  there  was  the  little  village 
of  Bethany,  where  a  man  by  the  name  of  Lazarus  resided 
with  his  two  sisters,  Martha  and  Mary.  They  were  the  warm 
friends  of  Jesus,  and  their  dwelling  had  been  one  of  his 
favorite  resorts.  Lazarus  was  taken  sick.  His  sisters  imme- 
diately sent  word  to  Jesus,  who,  in  the  wilderness,  was  one  or 
two  days'  journey  from  Bethany.  Jesus,  instead  of  hurrying 
to  his  afflicted  friends,  said  calmly  to  the  messenger,  "  This  sick- 
ness IS  not  unto  death,  but  for  the  glory  of  God,  that  the  Son 
of  God  might  be  glorified  thereby."  Two  days  passed  by ;  and 
then  he  said  to  his  disciples,  "  Let  us  go  into  Judaea  again." 
They  endeavored  to  dissuade  him,  saying,  "  Master,  the  Jews 
of  late  sought  to  stone  thee ;  and  goest  thou  thither  again  ?  " 
He,  however,  informed  his  disciples  that  Lazarus  was  dead,  and 
intimated  to  them  that  he  must  go  to  raise  him  from  the  grave. 

Accompanied  by  his  disciples,  he  reached  Bethany.     Martha 


94  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

hastened  to  meet  him  before  he  entered  the  town,  and  gently 
reproached  him,  yet  in  terms  expressive  of  her  unbounded 
confidence.  "Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here,"  she  said,  "my 
brother  had  not  died;  but  I  know  that  even  now,  whatsoever 
thou  wilt  ask  of  God,  God  will  give  it  thee." 

" Thy  brother,"  said  Jesus,  "shall  rise  again." 

"  I  know,"  Martha  rejoined,  "  that  he  shall  rise  again  in  the 
resurrection  at  the  last  day." 

Jesus  replied,  "I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life.^  He 
that  believeth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live ; 
and  whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  die. 
Believest  thou  this?" 

"  Yea,  Lord,"  Martha  replied :  "  I  believe  that  thou  art  the 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  which  should  come  into  the  world." 

Mary  soon  joined  her  sister,  and,  falling  at  the  feet  of  Jesus, 
exclaimed,  "  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here,  my  brother  had  not 
died.  When  Jesus,  therefore,  saw  her  weeping,  and  the  Jews 
also  weeping  which  came  with  her,  he  groaned  in  the  spirit, 
and  was  troubled,  and  said.  Where  have  ye  laid  him  ?  " 

Together  they  went  to  the  tomb,  where  the  body  was  already 
mouldering  to  corruption.  When  they  reached  the  tomb,  Jesus 
wept.  He  directed  the  stone  which  was  the  door  of  the  tomb 
to  be  moved.     Then,  lifting  his  eyes  to  heaven,  he  said,  — 

"  Father,  I  thank  thee  that  thou  hast  heard  me.  And  I 
knew  that  thou  hearest  me  always;  but  because  of  the  people 
which  stand  by  I  said  it,  that  they  may  believe  that  thou  hast 
sent  me." 

Then  in  a  loud  voice,  addressing  the  dead,  he  exclaimed, 
"  Lazarus,  come  forth  ! "  Immediately  Lazarus,  embarrassed 
by  the  wrappings  of  the  grave-clothes,  rose,  and  came  out  from 
the  tomb,  and  returned  to  his  home  with  his  friends. 

This  miracle  led  many  of  the  Jews  to  accept  Jesus  as  the 
^lessiah.  But  it  only  exasperated  the  Pharisees,  and  they 
met  together  to  devise  some  plan  by  which  they  could  secure 
his  destruction.  We  are  informed,  that,  consequently,  "Jesus 
walked  no  more  openly  among  the  Jews,  but  went  thence 

1  The  Author  of  the  resurrection,  and  the  Giver  of  eternal  life. 


TEACHINGS,  AND  MIRACLES  OF  HEALING.  93 

unto  a  country  near  to  the  wilderness,  into  a  city  called  Ephra- 
im." 

This  was  probably  a  small  town  several  miles  north-east 
from  Jerusalem.  We  know  not  how  long  Jesus  remained  here 
with  his  disciples,  and  we  have  no  record  either  of  his  sayings 
or  doings  while  in  this  place.  The  inspired  penman  informs 
us,  "  When  the  time  was  come  that  he  should  be  received  up, 
he  steadfastly  set  his  face  to  go  to  Jerusalem."  ^ 

>  Lake  ix.  61. 


CHAPTER    IV. 


LAST   LABORS,    AND    FAREWELL   TO    HIS    DISCIPLES. 


Journey  to  Jerusalem.  —  Mission  of  the  Seventy.  —  Jesus  teaches  his  Disciples  to 
pray.  —  Lament  over  Jerusalem.  —  Return  to  Galilee.  —  The  Second  Coming  of 
Christ.  —  Dangers  of  the  Rich.  —  Promise  to  his  Disciples.  — Foretells  his 
Death.  — Zacchaeus.  — Mary  anoints  Jesus. —Enters  Jerusalem.  — Drives  the 
Traffickers  from  the  Temple. —  The  Pharisees  try  to  entrap  him.  — The  De- 
struction of  Jerusalem,  and  the  Second  Coming. —Judas  agrees  to  betray 
Jesus.  — The  Last  Supper.  — The  Prayer  of  Jesus. 


S  Jesus  was  journeying  back  from  Ephraim  to 
Jerusalem  with  his  disciples,  he  entered  a  town 
of  the  Samaritans,  where  the  inhabitants,  learn- 
ing that  he  was  on  his  way  to  Jerusalem,  did 
not  give  him  a  hospitable  reception.  Two  of 
his  disciples,  James  and  John,  were  so  indignant 
at  their  ..conduct,  that  they  asked  for  authority  to 
command  fire  from  heaven  to  consume  them.  Jesus  mildly 
rebuked  them,  saying,  "Ye  know  not  what  manner  of  spirit  ye 
are  of ;  for  the  Son  of  man  is  not  come  to  destroy  men's  lives, 
but  to  save  them."     And  he  passed  on  to  another  village. 

Ae  they  were  toiling  along  over  the  shadowless  plains,  an 
enthusiastic  convert  came  to  him,  saying,  "  Lord,  I  will  follow 
thee  whithersoever  thou  goest."  Jesus  replied,  "  Foxes  have 
holes,  and  birds  of  the  air  have  nests ;  but  the  Son  of  man 
hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head."  ^ 

Though  he  thus  gently  repelled  this  man,  —  who,  perhaps, 
expected  to  derive  some  considerable  worldly  advantage  from 
following  him,  —  to  another  whom  he  met  he  said,  "  Follow 

1  Luke  ix.  58. 
96 


LAST  LABORS,  AND  FAREWELL.  97 

me."  But  this  man  made  an  excuse,  —  apparently  a  ve)?y 
sufficient  one,  —  saying,  "  I  ord,  suffer  me  first  to  go  and  bury 
my  father."  Jesus  repliea,  *'  Let  the  dead  bury  their  dead ; 
but  go  thou  and  preach  the  kingdom  of  God." 

There  were  doubtless  circumstances  in  this  case,  with  which 
we  are  not  familiar,  which  justified  this  seemingly  harsh  reply. 
The  meaning  was  quite  obvious,  —  "  Let  those  who  are  dead  in 
sin  take  care  of  the  dead ; "  and  Jesus  doubtless  meant  to  teach 
by  this  that  nothing  whatever  is  to  be  allowed  to  divert  the 
mind  from  religion.  When  another  said,  "  Lord,  I  will  follow 
thee ;  but  let  me  first  go  bid  them  farewell  which  are  at  home 
at  my  house,"  he  replied,  "  No  man,  having  put  his  hand  to  the 
plough,  and  looking  back,  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  Gcd." 

"After  these  things,"  it  is  written,  "the  Lord  appointed 
other  seventy  also,  and  sent  them  two  and  two  before  his  face 
into  every  city  and  place  whither  he  himself  would  come."  He 
g&.T3  them  the  same  directions,  and  almost  in  the  same  words, 
which  he  had  previously  given  to  the  twelve  apostles.  As 
these  disciples  returned  from  their  short  but  important  mis- 
sion to  preach  the  gospel,  they  said  joyfully,  "  Lord,  even  the 
devils  are  subject  unto  us  throug^i  thy  name."  Jesus  made  the 
memorable  reply,  — 

"  I  beheld  Satan  as  lightning  fall  from  heaven.  Behold,  I 
give  unto  you  power  to  tread  on  serpents  and  scorpions,  and 
over  all  the  power  of  the  enemy ;  and  nothing  shall  by  any 
means  hurt  you.  Notwithstanding,  in  this  rejoice  not  that 
the  spirits  are  subject  unto  you ;  but  rather  rejoice  because 
your  names  are  written  in  heaven." 

A  lawyer,  one  whose  profession  was  to  study  the  Jewish 
law,  feigning  a  desire  to  be  instructed,  and  yet  probably  seek- 
ing to  entrap  him,  asked,  "  Master,  what  shall  I  do  to  inherit 
eternal  life  ?  " 

Jesus  replied,  "  What  is  written  in  the  law  ?  How  readest 
ttiou?" 

The  lawyer  replied,  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy 
strength  ;  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself." 


98  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Jesus  responded,  "  Thou  hast  answered  right.  This  do,  and 
thou  shalt  live." 

But  the  lawyer  was  by  no  means  satisfied  by  this  sin:T)le 
announcement  of  duty,  and  in  a  cavilling  spirit  inquired, 
"  And  who  is  my  neighbor  ?  " 

Jesus  replied  in  the  beautiful  parable  of  the  Good  Samari- 
tan.i 

On  his  way  to  Jerusalem,  he  visited  Bethany,  the  home  of 
Lazarus,  Mary,  and  Martha.  As  he  drew  near  to  Jerusalem, 
which  was  to  be  the  scene  of  his  fearful  sufferings,  he  was 
much  engaged  in  prayer.  It  is  recorded,  "And  it  came  to 
pass,  as  he  was  praying  in  a  certain  place,  when  he  ceased, 
one  of  his  disciples  said  unto  him,  Lord,  teach  us  to  pray,  as 
John  also  taught  his  disciples.  And  he  said  unto  them, 
When  ye  pray,  say,  — 

"  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven,  hallowed  be  thy  name. 
Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  wiU  be  done,  as  in  heaven,  so  in 
earth.  Give  us  day  by  day  our  daily  bread.  And  forgive  us 
our  sins ;  for  we  also  forgive  every  one  that  is  indebted  to  us. 
And  lead  us  not  into  temptation ;  but  deliver  us  from  evil."  ' 

This  prayer  is  precisely  the  same  in  spirit,  and  almost  the 
same  in  words,  with  that  which  Jesus  gave  in  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount,  and  was  followed  with  very  similar  instructions, 
urging  importunity  in  prayer.  In  this  discourse  he  introduced 
the  parables  of  the  rich  man,  the  wise  steward,  the  unfaithful 
servant,  and  the  barren  fig-tree. 

While  engaged  in  these  various  works  of  instruction  and 
healing,  he,  on  his  tour  of  mercy,  again  visited  Galilee. 
Some  of  the  Jews  came  to  him,  and  urged  him  to  leave  the 
dominions  of  Herod,  as  Herod  was  seeking  to  kiU  him. 
Jesus  replied,  — 

"  Go  ye  and  teU  that  fox,  Behold,  I  cast  out  devils,  and  I  do 
cures  to-day  and  to-morrow,  and  the  third  day  I  shall  be  per- 
fected." It  is  supposed  that  Herod  had  cunningly  sent  these 
men,  hoping  thus  to  frighten  Jesus  out  of  his  realms.  The 
reply,  which   was   somewhat   proverbial,  was   simply,    "  TeU 

»  Luke  X.  30-37  •  Ltike  xl.  2-4. 


LAST  LABORS,  AND  FAREWELL.  99 

Herod  not  to  be  troubled.  I  am  not  violating  the  laws :  I  am 
engaged  in  works  of  mercy.  For  two  or  three  days  more  I 
shall  remain  in  his  domains,  and  shall  then  go  to  Jerusalem  • 
there  my  course  will  be  ended."     Jesus  added,  — 

"  Nevertheless,  I  must  walk  to-day  and  to-morrow  and  the 
day  following;  for  it  cannot  be  that  a  prophet  perish  out 
of  Jerusalem.  0  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  which  killest  the 
prophets,  and  stonest  them  that  are  sent  unto  thee !  how  often 
would  I  have  gathered  thy  children  together  as  a  hen  doth 
gai'/her  her  brood  under  her  wings,  and  ye  would  not !  Be- 
hold, your  house  is  left  unto  you  desolate ;  and  verily  I  say 
rnto  you,  Ye  shall  not  see  me  until  the  time  come  when  ye 
shall  say,  Blessed  is  he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the 
L:rd." 

Unremittingly  Jesus  continued  in  his  walks  of  usefulness, 
preaching  the  gospel,  healing  the  sick,  comforting  the  afflicted, 
and  silencing  the  cavils  of  his  foes.  The  record  we  have  of 
these  tireless  labors  is  very  brief,  and  apparently  without  re- 
gard to  chronology.  It  was  probably  at  this  time  that  he 
uttered  the  parables  of  the  wedding  and  of  the  great  supper.^ 

Multitudes  continually  thronged  around  him.  To  them  he 
said,  "  If  any  man  come  to  me,  and  hate  not  his  father  and 
mother,  and  wife  and  children,  and  brethren  and  sisters,  yea, 
and  his  own  life  also,  he  cannot  be  my  disciple."  In  Scripture 
phrase,  "  to  hate  "  often  signifies  to  love  less.  This  was  a  decla- 
ration that  Christ  was  to  be  loved  supremely.  No  one  could 
be  his  disciple  who  was  not  willing  to  forsake  all  earthly  pos- 
sessions and  friends,  if  need  be,  for  his  cause.* 

The  self-righteous  Pharisees  complained  that  "this  man 
receiveth  sinners,  and  eateth  with  them."  Jesus  replied  in 
the  beautiful  parables  of  the  lost  sheep,  the  lost  piece  of 
money,  and  that  most  impressive,  perhaps,  of  aH  his  parables, 
the  prodigal  son;  assuring  poor  sinners  that  not  only  God, 
with  parental  love,  welcomed  their  return  to  him,  but  that 
there  was  joy  in  the  presence  of  the  angels  of  God  over  one 
repentant  sinner. 

»  Luke  xiv.  9-25.  '  Luke  xiv.  1-24. 


100  niSTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Each  parable  seems  to  have  been  a  reply  to  some  inquiry, 
remark,  or  opposition,  on  the  part  of  those  who  listened  to 
him.  Thus  he  introduced  the  parable  of  the  unjust  steward, 
and  of  the  rich  man  and  Lazarus.^ 

In  this  latter  parable,  it  is  clearly  taught  that  the  soul,  im- 
mediately upon  death,  proceeds  to  a  state  of  reward  or  of  pun- 
ishment ;  and  as  flame  causes  the  most  direful  material  anguish, 
80  sin  causes  the  acutest  suffering  of  which  the  immaterial 
nature  is  susceptible, 

Jesus  was  now  on  his  route  to  Jerusalem  through  the  vil- 
lages and  cities  of  Galilee  and  Samaria.  He  crossed  the 
Jordan,  and  preached  in  the  rural  districts  beyond.  Large 
multitudes  followed  him  It  is  impossible  now  to  ascer<"am 
the  route  he  took  in  these  journeyings.  The  Pharisees  acked 
when  the  kingdom  of  God  —  that  is,  the  reign  of  the  Messiah 
—  should  commence.  He  made  the  memorable  reply,  which  is 
still  read  with  awe,  as  indicative  of  scenes  of  unspeakable  sub- 
limity and  terror  yet  to  come :  — 

"  As  the  lightning,  that  lighteneth  out  of  the  one  part  imder 
heaven,  shineth  unto  the  other  part  under  heaven ;  so  shall 
also  the  Son  of  man  be  in  his  day.  But  first  must  he  suffer 
many  things,  and  be  rejected  of  this  generation.  And  as  it 
was  in  the  days  of  Noe,  so  shall  it  be  also  in  the  days  of  the 
Son  of  man :  they  did  eat,  they  drank,  they  married  wives, 
they  were  given  in  marriage,  until  the  day  that  Noe  entered 
into  the  ark,  and  the  flood  came,  and  destroyed  them  all. 

"  Likewise,  also,  as  it  was  in  the  days  of  Lot :  they  did 
eat,  they  drank,  they  bought,  they  sold,  they  planted,  they 
builded;  but  the  same  day  that  Lot  went  out  of  Sodom  it 
rained  fire  and  brimstone  from  heaven,  and  destroyed  them 
all.  Even  thus  shall  it  be  in  the  day  when  the  Son  of  man  is 
revealed."  ^ 

In  these  revelations  of  awful  scenes  to  come,  there  is  an  ap- 
parent blending  of  the  terrible  suffering  which  was  soon  to 
befall  Jerusalem  in  its  utter  overthrow  and  of  the  final  com- 
ing of  Christ  at  the  day  of  judgment. 

1  Luke  xvl.  1-31.  "  Luke  xvii.  24-30. 


LAST  LABORS,   AND  FAREWELL.  101 

Again  he  urged  persevering  prayer  by  the  parable  of  the 
importunate  widow/  and  enjoined  humility  by  the  parable  of 
the  Pharisee  and  the  publican.'*  The  question  of  divorce  was 
presented  to  him,  with  the  statement  that  Moses  had  allowed 
it  for  very  trivial  causes.  Jesus  replied,  that,  in  the  eyes 
of  God,  divorce  and  subsequent  marriage  could  only  be  justified 
upon  the  ground  of  a  violation  of  the  marriage  oath.^ 

Some  children  were  brought  to  him  to  be  blessed.  He  laid 
his  hands  upon  their  heads,  and  prayed ;  and  then  said,  "  Who- 
soever shall  not  receive  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child 
shall  in  no  wise  enter  therein." 

A  young  man  of  wealth,  and,  as  a  ruler,  occupying  posts  of 
honor,  came  to  Jesus,  and,  rather  boastfully  asserting  that  he 
had  kept  all  the  commandments  from  his  youth  up,  inquired 
what  more  he  must  do  that  he  might  enter  the  kingdom  of 
God.  It  is  said  that  Jesus,  looking  upon  the  ingenuous 
young  man  of  unblemished  morals,  ''loved  him,  and  said 
unto  him.  One  thing  thou  lackest :  go  thy  way ;  sell  whatso- 
ever thou  hast,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have 
treasure  in  heaven ;  and  come,  take  up  the  cross,  and  follow 
me." 

This  was  merely  reiterating  the  declaration,  that  every  one 
who  w(  uld  be  a  disciple  of  Jesus  must  be  willing,  at  his  com- 
mand, to  make  any  sacrifice  whatever.  The  test  proved  that 
the  young  man  loved  wealth  more  than  Christ.  "  He  went 
away  sorrowful ;  for  he  had  great  possessions." 

It  is  recorded,  when  Jesus  saw  that  he  was  very  sorrowful, 
he  said,  "How  hard  is  it  for  them  that  trust  in  riches  to 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God ! "  Then,  using  an  expression 
proverbial  for  denoting  any  thing  remarkably  diflScult,  he 
added,  ''It  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a 
needle  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God." 

Peter,  who,  since  the  severe  rebuke  administered  to  him  by 
Jesus,  seems  to  have  been  very  retiring,  said,  "  Lo,  we  have 
left  all,  and  have  followed  thee.  What  shall  we  have,  there- 
fore ?  "     Jesus  replied,  — 

1  Luke  xii.  5-8.  »  Luke  xviu.  11-14,  »  Matt.  xix.  3-12. 


102  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

"Verily  I  say  unto  you,  That  ye  which  have  followed  me,  in 
the  regeneration  when  the  Son  of  man  shall  sit  in  the  throne 
of  his  glory,  ye  also  shall  sit  upon  twelve  thrones,  judging  the 
twelve  tribes  of  Israel.  And  every  one  that  hath  forsaken 
houses,  or  brethren,  or  sisters,  or  father,  or  mother,  or  wife,  or 
children,  or  lands,  for  my  name's  sake,  shall  receive  a  hun- 
dred-fold, and  shall  inherit  everlasting  life."  ^ 

It  is  supposed  that  Jesus  was  at  this  time  on  the  eastern 
side  of  Jordan,  nearly  opposite  Jericho.  The  reply  to  Peter 
was  followed  by  the  parable  of  the  householder  and  his  labor- 
ers. Jesus  crossed  the  ford,  and,  entering  Judaea,  directed 
his  steps  towards  Jerusalem.  His  disciples,  conscious  of  the 
peril  to  which  he  would  expose  himself  in  the  metropolis, 
were  amazed  and  afraid.  Jesus  called  the  twelve  around 
him,  and  said  to  them,  — 

"Behold,  we  go  up  to  Jerusalem  ;  and  the  Son  of  man  shall 
be  delivered  unto  the  chief  priests,  and  unto  the  scribes  ;  and 
they  shall  condemn  him  to  death,  and  shall  deliver  him  to 
the  Gentiles  ;  and  they  shall  mock  him,  and  shall  scourge  him, 
and  shall  spit  upon  him,  and  shall  kill  him ;  and  the  third 
day  he  shall  rise  again."  ^ 

The  idea  that  the  Messiah  could  be  put  to  death  —  He  who 
had  power  to  bring  the  dead  to  life  —  was  so  incomprehensible 
to  the  apostles,  that  they  could  not  receive  the  meaning  of  his 
words.  They,  however,  walked  along,  conversing  as  they 
went ;  and  both  Matthew  and  Mark  record  several  of  the 
memorable  sayings  of  Jesus  by  the  way.' 

As  they  drew  near  to  Jericho,  a  blind  man,  waiting  for  him 
by  the  wayside,  earnestly  implored  relief.  Jesus  restored  hia 
lost  vision,  simply  saying,  "  Receive  thy  sight :  thy  faith  hath 
saved  thee." 

From  Jericho,  which  was  about  twenty  miles  north-east  from 
Jerusalem,  they  continued  their  journey,  followed  by  an  im- 
mense multitude.    Two-blind  men,  as  Jesus  approached,  loudly 


>  Matt.  xix.  49.  «  Mark  x.  33,  34. 

3  Matt.  XX.  26-28:  Mark  x.  43-45. 


LAST  LABORS,  AND  FAREWELL.  103 

implored  his  aid.     He  touclied  their  eyes,  and  immediately 
their  eyes  received  sight. 

A  rich  man,  named  Zacchseus,  a  chief  publican,  being  of  short 
stature,  climbed  a  tree  that  he  might  see  Jesus  as  he  passed. 
Jesus  called  him  down,  saying,  "To-day  I  must'  abide  at 
thy  house."  Zacchaeus  hastened  down,  and  received  Jesus 
with  great  ocrdiality.  Again  there  was  murmuring  because 
Jesus  was  '  guest  with  a  man  that  is  a  sinner."  It  seems  that 
Zacchaeus  was  in  heart  a  better  man  than  he  was  in  repute  : 
for  Jesus  said,  "  This  day  is  salvation  come  to  this  house ;  for- 
asmuch as  he  also  is  a  son  of  Abraham."  Then,  in  allusion  to 
the  charge  that  he  associated  with  sinners,  he  said,  "  For  the 
Son  of  man  is  come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost." 
Notwithstanding  what  Jesus  had  said  respecting  his  ap- 
proaching sufferings  and  death  at  Jerusalem,  his  disciples  still 
expected  that  there  would  be  some  signal  displays  of  his  power 
there  in  the  establishment  of  a  glorious  reign.  Jesus,  there- 
fore, addressed  them  in  the  parable  of  the  nobleman  and  his 
servants. 

Six  days  before  the  passover,  Jesus  reached  Bethany.  A 
very  careful  computation  has  led  to  the  opinion  that  this  was 
on  the  30th  of  March,  the  year  of  our  Lord  30.  A  supper 
was  provided  for  him  at  the  house  of  Lazarus,  Martha,  and 
Mary.  Lazarus  sat  at  the  table.  The  grateful  Mary,  taking 
an  "alabaster  box  of  ointment  very  precious,"  anointed  the 
head  and  the  feet  of  Jesus.  The  house  was  filled  with  the 
fragrant  odor.  The  estimated  value  of  this  was  about  fifty 
dollars,  —  a  much  larger  sum  in  those  days  than  now. 

Several  who  were  present  considered  it  an  act  of  great  ex- 
travagance. That  sum,  distributed  among  the  poor,  would  have 
relieved  much  distress.  Judas  Iscariot,  who  was  the  treasurer 
of  the  little  band,  murmured  loudly,  saying,  "  Why  was  not 
this  ointment  sold  for  three  hundred  pence,  and  given  to  the 
poor  ?  "  "  This  he  said,"  John  adds,  "  not  that  he  cared  for  the 
poor,  but  because  he  was  a  thief,  and  had  the  bag,  and  bare 
what  was  put  therein." 

But  Jesus  coicn:cuded  the  deed  in  the  remarkable  words, 


104  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

*'  She  hatli  wrought  a  good  work  on  me :  for  ye  have  the  poor 
always  with  you,  and,  whenever  ye  will,  ye  may  do  them  good ; 
but  me  ye  have  not  always  She  hath  done  what  she  could. 
She  has  come  aforehand  to  anoint  my  body  to  the  burying. 
Verily  I  say  unto  you,  Wheresoever  this  gospel  shah  be 
preached  in  the  whole  world,  there  shall  also  thib,  that  this 
woman  hath  done,  be  told  for  a  memorial  of  her."  ^ 

Curiosity  to  see  Lazarus,  as  well  as  to  see  Jesus,  asseml  .ed 
an  immense  crowd  around  the  house.  The  raising  of  Lazarus 
from  the  dead,  and  his  daily  appearance,  were  evidence  of  the 
miraculous  powers  of  Jesus  which  no  argument  could  refute. 
The  chief  priests  were  so  malignant  that  they  consulted  io  put 
Lazarus  to  death,  "because  that  by  reason  of  him  many  of  the 
Jews  believed  on  Jesus." 

Leaving  Bethany,  —  which,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  but 
about  two  miles  east  of  Jerusalem,  on  the  eastern  declivity  of 
the  Mount  of  Olives,  —  Jesus  advanced  toward  Jerusalem,  As 
the  rumor  of  his  approach  was  circulated  through  the  streets, 
a  vast  throng  poured  out  at  the  gates  to  meet  him.  They  bore 
branches  of  palm-trees  in  their  hands,  and  shouted,  as  they 
escorted  him  in  triumph,  "  Hosanna !  Blessed  is  the  King  of 
Israel  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord ! "  "^  Near  a  ham- 
let at  the  Mount  of  Olives,  Jesus  procured  a  young  ass  which 
had  never  been  mounted.  His  disciples  spread  some  of  their 
garments  on  the  ass,  and  Jesus  took  his  seat  thereon.  A  con- 
queror would  have  wished  to  enter  the  city  on  a  spirited  war- 
horse  gayly  caparisoned.  Jesus  studiously  avoided  aU  such 
parade.  The  overjoyed  multitude,  however,  "  spread  their  gar- 
ments in  the  way ;  others  cut  down  branches  from  the  trees, 
and  strewed  them  in  the  way.  And  the  multitudes  that  went 
before  and  that  followed  cried,  saying,  Plosauna  to  the  Son  of 
David !  Blessed  is  he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  ! 
Hosanna  in  the  highest ! " ' 

As  Jesus,  thus  accompanied,  commenced  the  western  descent 
of  the  Mount  of  Olives,  the  whole  city  lay  spread  out  as  a 
panorama  before  him.     "And,  when  he  was  come  near,  he 

1  Matt.  xxvl.  10-13.  »  John  xii.  12,  1.3.  «  Matt.  xxl.  8,  9. 


LAST  LABORS,  AND  FAREWELL.  105 

belield  the  city,  and  wept  over  it,  saying,  If  tliou  hadst  known, 
even  tliou,  at  least  in  this  thy  day,  the  things  which  belong  unto 
thy  peace !  but  now  they  are  hid  from  thine  eyes.  For  the 
days  shall  come  upon  thee  that  thine  enemies  shall  cast  a 
trench  about  thee,  and  compass  thee  round,  and  keep  thee  in 
on  every  side,  and  shall  lay  thee  even  with  the  ground,  and 
thy  children  within  thee ;  and  they  shall  not  leave  in  thee  one 
stone  upon  another ;  because  thou  knewest  not  the  time  of  thy 
visitation."  ^ 

The  whole  city  of  Jerusalem  was  agitated  by  the  coming  of 
Jesus,  the  now  widely-renowned  prophet  of  Galilee.  Jesus 
proceeded  at  once  to  the  temple.  The  blind  and  the  lame 
were  brought  in  throngs  to  him.  He  healed  them  all.  The 
city  resounded  with  his  acclaim.  Even  the  children  in  the 
streets  shouted,  "  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David !  "  The  chief 
priests  and  the  scribes  were  sorely  annoyed,  saying,  "The 
world  has  gone  after  him." 

Some  Gieeks  who  were  in  Jerusalem  came  to  the  disciples, 
and  expressed  a  wish  to  see  Jesus.  They  were  brought  to 
him.     Jesus,  probably  addressing  them,  said,  — 

"  The  nour  is  come  that  the  Son  of  man  should  be  glorified. 
Verily  I  say  unto  you.  Except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the 
ground,  and  die,  it  abideth  alone;  but,  if  it  die,  it  bringeth 
forth  much  fruit.  He  that  loveth  his  life  shall  lose  it ;  and 
he  that  hateth  his  life  in  this  world  shall  keep  it  unto  life 
eternal.  If  any  man  serve  me,  let  him  follow  me ;  and  where 
I  am,  there  shall  also  my  servant  be.  If  any  man  serve  me,  him 
will  my  Father  honor.  Now  is  my  soul  troubled ;  and  what 
shall  I  say  ?  Father,  save  me  from  this  hour ;  but  for  this 
cause  came  I  unto  this  hour.  Father,  glorify  thy  name."  It 
.-s  added,  "Then  came  there  a  voice  from  heaven,  saying,  I 
have  both  glorified  it,  and  will  glorify  it  again." 

All  who  stood  by  heard  the  supernatural  noise,  and  some 
the  distinctly-articulated  voice,  and  said,  "  An  angel  spake  to 
him."     Jesus  answered,  — 

"  This  voice  came  not  because  of  me,  but  for  your  sakes.    Now 

»  Lukexix.  41-43. 


106  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

is  the  judgment  of  this  world;  now  shall  the  prince  of  thij 
world  be  cast  out.  And  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up  from  the  earth,  will 
draw  all  men  unto  me."  "  This,"  adds  the  inspired  writer, 
"  he  said,  signifying  what  death  he  sbould  die." 

The  people,  bewildered  by  such  assertions,  replied,  "We 
have  heard  out  of  the  law  that  Christ  abideth  forever ;  and 
how  say  est  thou.  The  Son  of  man  must  be  lifted  up  ?  "Who 
is  this  Son  of  man  ?  " 

Jesus  answered,  "  Yet  a  little  while  is  the  light  with  you. 
Walk  while  ye  have  the  light,  lest  darkness  come  upon  you  ;  for 
he  that  walketh  in  darkness  knoweth  not  whither  he  goeth. 
While  ye  have  the  light,  believe  in  the  light,  that  ye  may  be 
the  children  of  light." 

Jesus,  after  these  words,  withdrew  secretly  with  his  disciples 
from  the  city  (for  it  was  night),  and  returned  to  Bethany.  In 
the  morning,  he  came  back  to  Jerusalem.  Being  hungry,  and 
seeing  a  fig-tree  by  the  way,  he  went  to  it,  and  found  leaves 
only.  We  know  not  now  what  lesson  Jesus  intended  to  teach 
us  :  he  said,  "  Let  no  fruit  grow  on  thee  henceforward  forever." 
The  tree  withered  away.  Again,  finding  the  temple  sacri- 
legiously perverted  to  purposes  of  traffic,  he,  by  his  authori- 
tative person  and  voice,  drove  the  traffickers  out,  saying, 
"  It  is  written.  My  house  shall  be  called  the  house  of  prayer  j 
but  ye  have  made  it  a  den  of  thieves." 

The  scribes  and  chief  priests  were  becoming  more  and  more 
exasperated  by  these  reproofs.  But  they  feared  to  lay  violent 
hands  upon  Jesus,  he  was  so  popular  with  the  masses  of  the 
people.  He  continued  through  the  day  teaching  the  crowds 
ever  thronging  the  temple  to  listen  to  his  calm,  impressive 
words.  At  the  approach  of  evening,  he  returned  to  the  quietude 
of  Bethany,  and  in  the  morning  re-entered  the  city.  As  he 
was  teaching  in  the  temple,  the  chief  priests  and  scribes  came 
and  inquired  of  him  by  what  authority  he  did  these  things. 
Jesus  baffled  their  malignity  by  asking  them  what  they  thought 
of  the  prophet  John.  They  were  greatly  annoyed.  If  they 
should  say  he  was  a  prophet,  Jesus  would  inquire  why  they 
did  not  believe  in  him.     If,  on  the  other  hand,  they  should  say 


LAST  LABORS,   AND  FAREWELL.  107 

that  he  was  but  a  common  man,  the  indignation  of  the  people 
would  be  aroused ;  for  they  all  regarded  John  as  a  prophet. 
They  therefore  said,  "  We  cannot  tell."  Jesus  replied,  "  Nei- 
ther do  I  tell  you  by  what  authority  I  do  these  things."  Hav- 
ing thus  silenced  them^  and  put  them  to  shame,  Jesus  addressed 
them  in  the  parable  of  the  father  and  his  two  sons,  and  then 
in  the  parable  of  the  vineyard  let  out  to  husbandmen.^ 

He  made  such  personal  application  of  these  parables  as  to 
leave  no  doubt  yn  the  minds  of  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  that 
he  referred  to  them.  "  But,  when  they  sought  to  lay  hands 
upon  him,  they  feared  the  multitude,  because  they  took  him  for 
a  prophet."  Another  parable  he  added,  that  of  the  marriage- 
feast,  illustrative  of  the  same  truth,  that  the  Gentiles  would 
enter  the  kingdom  of  God,  which  the  Jews  refused  to  enter. 

The  Pharisees  endeavored  to  entrap  him  by  inducing  him  to 
say  something  which  would  render  him  unpopular  with  the 
people.  After  much  deliberation,  they  sent  some  spies  to  him 
to  inquire  whether  it  were  lawful  to  pay  tribute  to  Caesar,  who 
had  conquered  and  enslaved  them.  If  he  should  say  "  No,"  it 
would  be  treason :  if  he  should  say  "  Yes,"  it  would  exasperate 
the  people. 

Jesus,  "  knowing  their  hypocrisy,  said  unto  them,  Why 
tempt  ye  me  ?  Bring  me  a  penny.  And  they  brought  it. 
And  he  saith  unto  them,  Whose  is  this  image  and  super- 
scription ?  They  said  unto  him,  Caesar's.  Jesus,  answering, 
said,  Eender  to  Caesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar's,  and  to 
God  the  things  that  are  God's."  It  is  added,  "They  mar- 
velled, and  left  him,  and  went  their  way." 

Again  :  the  Sadducees,  who  denied  the  doctrine  of  the  resur- 
rection, inquired  of  him  whose  wife  a  woman  in  the  resurrec- 
tion would  be,  who  had  married,  one  after  another,  seven  hus- 
bands. Their  cavilling  spirit  was  silenced  by  the  reply,  that, 
in  the  future  world,  those  who  should  *'  rise  from  the  dead " 
would  not  marry,  but  would  be  as  the  angels  of  God  in  heaven.* 
He  then  re-affirmed  the  doctrine  of  a  future  life,  saying  — 

»  Matt.  xxi.  28-12. 

•  Matt.  xxi.  24-30;  Mark  xii.  18-25;  Luke  xx.  27-36. 


108  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

"Now,  that  the  dead  are  raised,  even  Moses  showed  at  the 
bush,  when  he  calleth  the  Lord  the  God  of  Abraham,  and 
the  God  of  Isaac,  and  the  God  of  Jacob ;  for  he  is  not  the 
God  of  the  dead,  but  of  the  living."  ^ 

The  Pharisees  were  quite  pleased  in  finding  the  Sadducees 
thus  confounded.  StiU  they  sought  ;;he  destruction  of  Jesus. 
After  taking  counsel  together,  they  commissioned  one  of  their 
lawyers  to  ask  which  was  the  chiei  commandment  of  the  law. 
Among  these  ritualists,  there  was  quite  a  diversity  of  opinion 
upon  this  subject.  Some  said,  "  Sacrifices ;  "  others,  "Circum- 
cision ; "  others,  "  The  law  of  the  sabbath,"  &c.  Jesus  re- 
plied, — 

"The  first  of  all  the  commandments  is.  Hear,  0  Israeli 
The  Lord  our  God  is  one  Lord.  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy 
God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  aU  thy 
mind:  this  is  the  first  and  great  commandment.  And  the 
second  is  like  unto  it :  Thou  sh»»Jt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thy- 
self. On  these  two  commandments  hang  all  the  law  and  the 
prophets."  ^  It  is  recorded,  "No  man,  after  this,  durst  ask  him 
any  question." 

Jesus  now,  in  his  turn,  asked  the  Pharisees  a  question,  to 
show  them  the  divine  character  of  the  Messiah,  and  how  far 
their  views  of  his  dignity  fell  short  of  the  truth. 

"  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ?  whose  son  is  he  ?  "  They  re- 
plied, "'  The  son  of  David."  Jesus  rejoined,  "  How,  then,  doth 
David,  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  call  him  Lord,  saying,  The  Lord 
said  unto  my  Lord,  Sit  thou  on  my  right  hand  till  I  make 
chine  enemies  thy  footstool  ?  If  David,  then,  call  him  Lord, 
how  is  he  his  son  ?  " 

They  agaiji  being  thus  bafiled,  it  is  recorded,  "And  no  man 
was  able  to  answer  him  a  word." 

Jesus  then  warned  his  disciples  to  beware  of  the  pride,  am- 
bition, and  ostentation  of  the  scribes;  of  their  ceremonial 
display,  and  of  their  moral  corruption.  In  the  temple  were 
placed  several  money-boxes  to  receive  the  voluntary  contribu- 
tions of  the  people  for  the  service  of  the  temple.     Jesus  no- 

1  Luke  XX.  37.  38.  »  Matt.  xxii.  32. 


LAST  LAPORS,   AND  FAREWELL.  109 

ticed  the  people  as  they  came  with  their  contributions,  —  many 
of  the  rich  casting  in  large  sums,  not  at  all  unwilling  that  the 
amount  should  be  known  by  the  lookers-on.  "And  there  came 
a  certain  poor  widow,  and  she  threw  in  two  mites,  which  make  a 
farthing.  And  he  called  unto  him  his  disciples,  and  saith 
unto  them,  Of  a  truth  I  say  unto  you,  that  this  poor  widow 
hath  cast  in  more  than  they  all :  for  all  these  have  of  their 
abundance  cast  in  unto  the  offerings  of  God ;  but  she,  of  her 
penury,  hath  cast  in  all  the  living  that  she  hath."  ^ 

Notwithstanding  the  abounding  evidence  of  the  divine  mis- 
sion of  Jesus,  there  were  many  who  hardened  their  hearts, 
and  who  refused  to  believe  in  him.  Others  there  were,  then 
as  now,  who,  though  they  were  convinced  of  his  Messiah- 
ship,  had  not  sufficient  moral  courage  to  confess  him  before 
men.  It  is  recorded,  "Nevertheless,  among  the  chief  rulers, 
also,  many  believed  on  him :  but,  because  of  the  Pharisees 
they  did  not  confess  him,  lest  they  should  be  put  out  of  the 
synagogue ;  for  they  loved  the  praise  of  men  more  than  the 
praise  of  God."  ^ 

In  reference  to  all  who  thus  rejected  him,  Jesus  exclaimed, 
"  He  that  believeth  on  me,  believeth,  not  on  me,  but  on  Him 
tbar  sent  me;  and  he  that  seeth  me  seeth  Him  that  sent  me. 
I  am  come  a  light  into  the  world,  that  whosoever  believeth  on 
me  should  not  abide  in  darkness.  And  if  any  man  hear  my 
words,  and  believe  not,  I  judge  him  not ;  for  I  came  not  to 
judge  the  world,  but  to  save  the  world.  He  that  rejectetla 
me,  and  receiveth  not  my  words,  hath  one  that  judgeth  him  : 
the  word  that  I  have  spoken,  the  same  shall  judge  him  in  the 
last  day.  For  I  have  not  spoken  of  myself;  but  the  Father 
rhich  sent  me,  he  gave  me  a  commandment  what  I  should 
say  and  what  I  should  speak.  And  I  know  that  his  command- 
ment is  life  everlasting :  whatsoever  I  speak,  therefore,  even 
as  the  Father  said  unto  me,  so  I  speak."  ^ 

He  then,  addressing  the  multitude,  warned  them  in  the  most 
solemn  manner  to  avoid  the  hypocrisy  and  haughty  display  of 
these  proud  and  pompous  ceremonialists.     His  denunciations 

»  Luke  xxi.  3,  4.  '  Luke  xii.  42,  43.  «  Johu  xil.  44-60, 


110  BISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

of  them  were  terrible,  and  must  have  roused  them  to  the 
highest  pitch  of  rage. 

"  Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites !"  he  said, 
"for  ye  shut  up  the  kingdom  of  heaven  against  men ;  for  ye 
neither  go  in  yourselves,  neither  suffer  ye  them  that  are  enter- 
ing to  go  in.  Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypo- 
crites !  for  ye  devour  widows'  houses,  and,  for  a  pretence^ 
make  long  prayer  :  therefore  ye  shall  receive  the  greater  dam- 
nation. Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites  !  for 
ye  compass  sea  and  land  to  make  one  proselyte ;  and,  when  he 
is  made,  ye  make  him  twofold  more  the  child  of  hell  than 
yourselves,"  &c.^ 

A  more  terrible,  and  at  the  same  time  calm  and  truthful,  de- 
nunciation cannot  be  found  in  any  language.  As  Jesus  Ipft 
the  temple,  his  disciples  called  his  attention  to  the  massive 
stones  of  which  it  was  reared.  Jesus  assured  them  ttat  the 
temple  was  to  be  so  utterly  destroyed,  that  not  one  stone  should 
be  left  upon  another.  Departing  from  the  city,  he  went  with 
his  disciples  to  the  Mount  of  Olives.  As  he  sat  upon  that 
eminence,  which  overlooked  the  city,  he  gave  them  an  api-fll- 
ing  account  of  the  scenes  wh.ch  were  to  ensue  at  the  time  of 
its  destruction.  In  reference  to  the  persecutions  which  they 
were  to  encounter,  he  said,  "For  they  shall  deliver  you  up  to 
councils,  and  in  the  synagogues  ye  shall  be  beaten ;  and  ye 
shall  be  brought  before  rulers  and  kings  for  my  sake,  for  a 
testimony  against  them.  But  when  they  shall  lead,  you,  and 
deliver  you  up,  take  no  thought  beforehand  what  ye  shall 
speak,  neither  do  ye  premeditate  :  but  whatsoever  shall  be 
given  you  in  that  hour,  that  speak  ye ;  for  it  is  not  ye  that 
speak,  but  the  Holy  Ghost.  Now,  the  brother  shall  betray  the 
brother  to  death,  and  the  father  the  son ;  and  children  shall 
rise  up  against  their  parents,  and  shall  cause  them  to  be  put 
to  death.  And  ye  shall  be  hated  of  all  men  for  my  name's 
sake ;  but  he  that  shall  endure  unto  the  end,  the  same  shall 
be  saved."  ^ 

In  continuation  of  this  wonderful  discourse,  and  in  reply  to 

»  See  Matt,  xxiii.  J»-37.  »  Mark  xiii  9-13. 


LAST  LABORS,  AND  FAREWELL.  Ill 

an  inquiry  what  should  be  the  sign  of  his  coming  and  cf  the 
end  of  the  world,  Jesus  added,  — 

"And  then  shall  appear  the  sign  of  the  Son  of  man  in 
heaven,  and  then  shall  all  the  tribes  of  the  earth  mourn ;  and 
they  shall  see  the  Son  of  man  coming  in  the  clouds  of  heaven 
with  power  and  great  glory.  And  he  shall  send  his  angels 
with  a  great  sound  of  a  trumpet ;  and  they  shall  gather  to- 
gether his  elect  from  the  four  winds,  from  one  end  of  heaven 
to  the  other.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  This  generation  shall 
not  pass  till  all  these  things  be  fulfilled."  ^  He  then  adds, 
"But  of  that  day  and  hour  knoweth  no  man;  no,  not  the 
angels  which  are  in  heaven,  neither  the  Son,  but  the  Father." 

There  is  no  portion  of  Scripture  which  has  occasioned  more 
perplexity  than  these  predictions  of  Jesus,  contained  in  the 
twenty-fourth  and  twenty-fifth  chapters  of  Matthew ;  and  it 
may  also  be  said  that  there  is  no  portion  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment which  is  read  with  more  interest,  or  which  inspires  more 
profound  and  religious  emotion.  Jesus  was  speaking  to  his 
disciples  of  the  overthrow  of  Jerusalem,  and  of  the  utter  de- 
struction of  the  temple.  They  said,  "  Tell  us,  when  shall  these 
things  be  ?  and  what  shall  be  the  sign  of  thy  coming  and  of 
the  end  of  the  world  ?  " 

Here  were  two  distinct  questions,  but  which  were  probably 
erroneously  associated  in  the  minds  of  the  disciples  as  one. 
They  probably  supposed  that  Christ's  second  coming,  the  de- 
struction of  Jerusalem,  and  the  end  of  the  world,  were  to  be 
the  same  event.  In  the  reply  of  Jesus,  these  events  are  so 
blended,  that  occurrences  are  apparently  brought  together  which 
are  actually  separated  by  many  centuries.  Many  suppose  that 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  is  foretold  from  the  beginning  of 
the  twenty-fourth  chapter  of  Matthew  to  the  twenty-ninth 
verse  ;  that,  from  the  twenty-ninth  verse  of  the  twenty-fourth 
chapter  to  the  thirtieth  verse  of  the  twenty-fifth  chapter,  the 
second  advent  of  Christ  is  foretold ;  and  that,  from  the  thirty- 
iirst  verse  to  the  end  of  the  chapter,  Christ  speaks  of  the  final 
judgment. 

»  Matt.  xxiv.  30-34. 


112  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

There  are  not  a  few  careful  students  of  the  Bible  who  sup- 
pose that  there  are  here  indicated  three  distinct  comings  of 
Christ,  —  first,  for  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem ;  second,  to  es- 
tablish a  millennial  reign  upon  earth ;  and,  thirdly,  his  coming 
in  the  day  of  judgment  at  the  end  of  the  world.  Upon  this 
general  subject,  the  following  judicious  remarks  by  Rev.  Wil- 
liam Hanna  will  recommend  themselves  to  the  reader :  — 

"It  so  happens,  that,  among  those  who  have  made  the  prov- 
ince of  unfulfilled  prophecy  their  peculiar  study,  the  most  various 
and  the  most  discordant  opinions  prevail.  They  differ,  not  only 
in  their  interpretation  of  individual  prophecies,  but  in  the  sys- 
tems or  methods  of  interpretation  which  they  employ.  For 
some  this  region  of  biblical  study  has  had  a  strange  fascina- 
tion ;  and,  once  drawn  into  it,  there  appears  to  be  a  great  diffi- 
culty in  getting  out  again.  Perhaps  the  very  dimness  and 
doubtfulness  that  belong  to  it  constitute  one  of  its  attractions. 
The  lights  are  but  few,  and  struggling  and  obscure  ;  yet  each 
new  entrant  fancies  he  has  found  the  clew  that  leads  through 
the  labyrinth,  and,  with  a  confidence  proportioned  to  the  diffi- 
culties he  imagines  he  has  overcome,  would  persuade  us  to 
accompany  him.  Instead  of  inclining  us  the  more  to  enter, 
the  very  number  and  force  of  these  conflicting  invitations  serve 
rather  to  repel."  ^ 

At  the  conclusion  of  these  announcements  respecting  the 
future,  Jesus  gives  a  very  sublime  description  of  the  day  of 
final  judgment,  in  which  he  represents  himself  as  seated  upon 
the  throne  to  pronounce  the  irreversible  verdicts. 

"  When  the  Son  of  man,"  he  said,  "  shall  come  in  his  glory, 
and  all  the  holy  angels  with  him,  then  shall  he  sit  upon  the 
throne  of  his  glory :  and  before  him  shall  be  gathered  all 
nations ;  and  he  shall  separate  them  one  from  another  as  a 
shepherd  divideth  his  sheep  from  the  goats ;  and  he  shall  sei. 
the  sheep  on  his  right  hand,  but  the  goats  on  the  left.  Then 
shall  the  King  say  unto  them  on  his  right  hand,  Come,  ye 
blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you 
from  the  foundation  of  the  world.     Then  shall  he  say  also  unto 

1  The  Life  of  Christ,  by  Rev.  William  B.  Hanna,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  p.  667. 


LAST  LABORS,   AND  F ABE  WELL.  113 

them  on  the  left  hand,  Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed,  into  ever- 
lasting fire  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels.  And  these 
shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment,  but  the  righteous 
into  life  eternal."  ^ 

Having  thus  described  himself  as  seated  upon  the  throne  of 
final  judgment,  he  added  the  declaration  so  bewildering  to  hig 
disciples,  "  Ye  know  that  after  two  days  is  the  feast  of  the 
passover,  and  the  Son  of  man  is  betrayed  to  be  crucified." 

The  chief  priests  and  the  scribes  held  a  council  in  the  pal- 
ace of  Caiaphas,  the  high  priest,  to  devise  some  means  by  which 
they  might  put  Jesus  to  death.  It  was  not  easy  to  rouse  the 
mob  against  him ;  for  he  was  popular  with  the  people.  Judas 
Iscariot,  probably  hearing  of  this  council,  went  to  the  chief 
priests,  and  agreed  to  betray  Jesus  to  them  by  night  for 
thirty  pieces  of  silver,  —  about  fifteen  dollars.  "  They  feared 
the  people ;  "  and  it  was  consequently  necessary  tliat  he  should 
"betray  him  unto  them  in  the  absence  of  the  multitude." 

Jesus,  as  usual,  entered  Jerusalem  early  in  the  morning,  and, 
all  the  day  long,  was  preaching  his  gospel;  "and  all  the  peo- 
ple came  early  in  the  morning  to  him  in  the  temple  for  to  hear 
him."  At  night,  he  retired  to  his  silent  retreat  on  the  Mount 
of  Olives. 

In  the  evening  of  the  first  day  of  the  feast,  Jesus  and  his 
twelve  apostles  met  in  an  upper  chamber  at  Jerusalem  to  par- 
take of  the  paschal  lamb.  "Jesus  knew  that  his  hour  was 
come  that  he  should  depart  out  of  this  world  unto  the  Father." 
Tenderly  he  loved  his  apostles.  In  this  hour,  when  their  final 
separation  was  so  near,  "  he  riseth  from  supper,  laid  aside  his 
garments,  and  took  a  towel,  and  girded  himself.  After  that,  he 
poureth  water  into  a  basin,  and  began  to  wash  the  disciples' 
feet,  and  to  wipe  them  with  the  towel  wherewith  he  was 
girded." 

Simon  Peter,  with  characteristic  impulsiveness,  exclaimed 
remonstratingly,  "  Lord,  dost  thou  wash  my  feet  ?  " 

Jesus  replied,  "What  I  do  thou  knowest  not  now,  but  thou 
ehalt  know  hereafter." 

'  Matt.  XXV.  .Sl-M 


114  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

But  Peter  still  remonstrated,  saying,  "Thou  slialt  nevei 
wash  my  feet."  Jesus  answered,  "If  I  wash  thee  not,  thou 
hast  no  part  with  me." 

Then  this  childlike  man,  fickle  yet  heroic,  exclaimed,  "  Lord, 
not  my  feet  only,  but  also  my  hands  and  my  head ! " 

Jesus  rejoined,  "He  that  is  washed  needeth  not  save  to 
wash  his  feet,  but  is  clean  every  whit."  He  then  added^  in 
allusion  to  Judas  Iscariot,  "And  ye  are  clean,  but  not  all." 

Having  thus  washed  the  feet  of  his  apostles,  he  sat  down, 
and  said  to  them,  "  Know  ye  what  I  have  done  to  you  ?  Ye 
call  me  Master  and  Lord  :  and  ye  say  well ;  for  so  I  am.  If 
I,  then,  your  Lord  and  Master,  have  washed  your  feet,  ye  also 
ought  to  wash  one  another's  feet ;  for  I  have  given  you  an  ex- 
ample that  ye  should  do  as  I  have  done  to  you.  Verily,  verily, 
I  say  unto  you.  The  servant  is  not  greater  than  his  lord,  neither 
he  that  is  sent  greater  than  he  that  sent  him.  If  ye  kikow 
these  things,  happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  them." 

Jesus  then  "  took  bread ;  and,  when  he  had  given  thanks,  he 
brake  it,  and  said.  Take,  eat :  this  is  my  body  which  is  broken 
for  you.     This  do  in  remembrance  of  me." 

While  they  were  eating  of  the  bread,  and  before  they  par- 
took of  the  cup,  Jesus  said  to  them,  — 

"  Behold,  the  hand  of  him  that  betrayeth  me  is  with  me  on 
the  table.  And  truly  the  Son  of  man  goeth  as  it  was  deter- 
mined ;  but  woe  unto  that  man  by  whom  he  is  betrayed !  I 
speak  not  of  you  all :  I  know  whom  I  have  chosen :  but  that 
the  scripture  may  be  fulfilled,  He  that  eateth  bread  with  me 
hath  lifted  up  his  heel  against  me.  Now,  I  tell  you  before  it 
come,  that,  when  it  is  come  to  pass,  ye  may  believe  that  I  am 
he.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you.  He  that  receiveth  wdiomso- 
ever  I  send  receiveth  me ;  and  he  that  receiveth  me  receiveth 
Him  that  sent  me."  ^ 

John  adds,  "  When  Jesus  had  thus  said,  he  was  troubled  in 
spirit,  and  testified,  and  said.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you, 
that  one  of  you  shall  betray  me." 

This  announcement  created  mingled  feelings  of  surprise  and 

I  John  xiil.  18-21. 


LAST  LABORS,  AND  FAREWELL.  US 

grief.  "  The  disciples  looked  oue  on  another,  doubting  of 
whom  he  spake  ;  and  they  were  exceeding  sorrowful,  and 
began,  every  one  of  them,  to  say  unto  him,  Lord,  is  it  I?  " 

He  replied,  "It  is  one  of  the  twelve  that  dippeth  with  me 
in  the  dish." 

John,  who  is  represented  as  the  favorite  disciple  of  Jesus, 
was  sitting  next  to  him,  and  reclining  upon  his  bosom.  Peter 
beckoned  to  him  to  ask  whom  he  meant. 

"  Lord,  who  is  it?"  said  John. 

Jesus  replied,  "  lie  it  is  to  whom  I  shall  give  a  sop  when  I 
have  dipped  it."  And,  when  he  had  dipped  the  sop,  he  gave  it 
to  Judas  Iscariot ;  and,  after  the  sop,  Satan  entered  into  him. 
Then  said  Jesus  unto  him,  "That  thou  doest,  do  quickly.'" 

Judas  immediately  rose,  and  went  out ;  "  and  it  was  night." 
As  soon  as  he  had  left,  Jesus  said  to  the  remaining  eleven, 
"  Now  is  the  Son  of  man  glorified,  and  God  is  glorified  iu  him. 
If  Grod  be  glorified  in  him,  God  shall  also  glorify  him  in  him- 
self, and  shall  straightway  glorify  him.  Little  children,  yet 
a  little  while  I  am  with  3-ou.  Ye  shall  seek  me  ;  and  as  I  said 
unto  the  Jews,  Whither  I  go  ye  cannot  come,  so  now  I  say  to 
3'ou.  A  new  commandment  I  give  unto  you.  That  ye  love 
oue  another.  By  this  shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are  my 
disciples,  if  ye  have  love  one  to  another." 

Peter  said  unto  him,  "Lord,  whither  goest  thou?" 

Jesus  replied,  "Whither  I  go,  thou  canst  not  follow  me 
now  ;  but  thou  shalt  follow  me  afterwards." 

Peter  rejoined,  "  Lord,  why  cannot  I  follow  thee  now?  I 
will  lay  down  my  life  for  thy  sake. 

Jesus  answered,  "Wilt  thou  lay  down  thy  life  for  my  sake  ? 
Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee.  The  cock  shall  not  crow  till 
thou  hast  denied  me  thrice.  Simon,  Simon,  behold  Satan  hath 
desired  to  have  you,  that  he  may  sift  3'ou  as  wheat ;  but  I 
have  prayed  for  thee,  that  thy  faith  fail  not ;  and,  when  thou 
art  converted,  strengthen  thy  brethren."  " 

Peter  rejoined,  "  Lord,  I  am  ready  to  go  with  thee  both  into 

1  John  xill.  28,  29. 

2  Converted,— Avhen  thou  art  turned  to  me,  after  having  forsaken  me. 


116  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

prison  and  to  death."  But  Jesus  reiterated  his  assertion,  '- 1 
tell  tliee,  Peter,  the  cock  shall  no^-  crow  this  day  before  that 
thou  shalt  thrice  deny  that  thou  knowest  me." 

After  this  and  some  other  conversation,  Jesus  '■  took  the 
cup,  and  gave  thanks,  and  gave  it  to  them,  saying,  Drink  ye 
all  of  it ;  for  this  is  my  hlood  of  the  new  testament,  which 
is  shed  for  many  for  the  remission  of  sins.  For  as  often  as 
ye  eat  this  bread,  and  drink  this  cup,  ye  do  show  forth  the 
Lord's  death  till  he  come.  But  I  say  unto  you,  I  will  not 
drink  henceforth  of  this  fruit  of  the  vine  until  that  day  when 
I  drink  it  new  with  you  in  my  Father's  kingdom." 

Then,  to  comfort  them  in  view  of  the  terrible  disappoint- 
ment thoy  would  encounter  in  his  death,  he  said,  "  Let  not 
your  heart  be  troubled  :  ye  believe  in  God ;  believe  also  in  me. 
In  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions :  if  it  were  not  so, 
I  would  have  told  you.  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you. 
And,  if  I  go  and  prepare  a  place  for  you,  I  will  come  again, 
and  receive  you  unto  myself,  that  where  I  am,  there  ye  may 
be  also.  And  whither  I  go  ye  know,  and  the  way  ye 
know." 

Thomas,  one  of  the  twelve,  inquired,  "  Lord,  we  know  not 
whither  thou  goest ;  and  how  can  we  know  the  waj'  ?  " 

Jesus  replied,  "  I  am  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life.  No 
man  cometh  unto  the  Father  but  by  me.  If  ye  had  known  me, 
ye  should  have  known  my  Father  also ;  and  from  henceforth 
ye  know  him,  and  have  seen  him." 

Philip,  another  of  the  twelve,  said,  "  Lord,  show  us  the  Fv 
ther,  and  it  sufficeth  us." 

Jesus  replied,  "  Have  I  been  so  long  time  with  you,  and  yet 
hast  thou  not  known  me,  Philip  ?  He  that  hath  seen  me  hath 
seen  the  Father;  and  how  sayest  thou,  then.  Show  us  the 
Father  ?  Believest  thou  not  that  I  am  in  the  Father,  and 
the  Father  in  me  ?  The  words  that  I  speak  unto  you,  I 
speak  not  of  myself ;  but  the  Father  that  dwelleth  in  me,  he 
doeth  the  works.  Believe  me  that  I  am  in  the  Father,  and 
the  Father  in  me ;  or  else  believe  me  for  the  very  works'  sake. 
Verily  I  say  unto  you,  He  that  believeth  on  me,  the  works 


LAST  LABORS,   AND  FAREWELL.  117 

that  I  do  shall  he  do  also ;  and  greater  works  than  these 
shall  he  do,  because  I  go  unto  the  Father.^ 

"And  whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  in  my  name,  that  will  I  do, 
that  the  Father  may  be  glorified  in  the  Son.  If  ye  shall  ask 
any  thing  in  my  name,  I  will  do  it.  If  ye  love  me,  keep 
my  commandments.  And  I  will  pray  the  Father,  and  he 
shall  give  you  another  Comforter,  that  he  may  abide  with  you 
forever;  even  the  Spirit  of  truth,  whom  the  world  cannot  re- 
ceive, because  it  seeth  him  not,  neither  knoweth  him  :  but  ye 
know  him ;  for  he  dwelleth  with  you,  and  shall  be  in  you. 

"  I  will  not  leave  you  comfortless  :  I  will  come  to  you.  Yet 
a  little  while,  and  the  world  seeth  me  no  more ;  but  ye  see 
me.^  Because  I  live,  ye  shall  live  also.  At  that  day  ye  shall 
know  that  I  am  in  my  Father,  and  ye  in  me,  and  I  in  you. 
He  that  hath  my  commandments,  and  keepeth  them,  he  it  is 
that  loveth  me ;  and  he  that  loveth  me  shaU  be  loved  of  my 
Father,  and  I  will  love  him,  and  will  manifest  myself  to  him." 

Judas,  the  brother  of  James,  and  who  subsequently  wrote 
the  Spistle  of  Jude,  inquired,  "  Lord,  how  is  it  that  thou  wilt 
manifest  thyself  unto  us,  and  not  unto  the  world  ?  " 

Jesus  replied,  "  If  a  man  love  me,  he  will  keep  my  words ; 
and  ii.y  Father  will  love  him,  and  we  will  come  unto  him,  and 
make  our  abode  with  him.  He  that  loveth  me  not  keepeth 
not  my  sayings ;  and  the  word  which  ye  hear  is  not  mine, 
but  the  father's  which  sent  me.  These  thipgs  have  I  spoken 
unto  you,  being  yet  present  with  you;  but  the  Comforter, 
which  is  t;tie  Holy  Ghost,  whom  the  Father  will  send  in  my 
name,  he  shall  teach  you  aU  things,  and  bring  all  things  to 
jDur  remembrance,  whatsoever  I  have  said  unto  you. 

"  Peace  I  leave  with  you ;  my  peace  I  give  unto  you :  not 
as  the  world  giveth  give  I  unto  you.  Let  not  your  heart  be 
troubled,  neitner  let  it  be  afraid.  Ye  have  heard  how  I  said 
unto  you,  I  go  away,  and  come  again  unto  you.  If  ye  loved 
-ne,  ye  wculd  rejoice,  because  I  said,  I  go  unto  the  Father;  for 

*  By  "  wo'-ks  "  is  h  .re  probably  meant  all  that  the  apostles  did  to  moke  an 
tKpressiou  upon  mankind. 

*  "  r   shall  continue  to  see  me  by  faith." 


118  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

my  Father  is  greater  than  I.  And  now  I  have  told  you  be- 
fore it  come  to  pass,  that,  when  it  is  come  to  pass,  ye  might 
believe.  Hereafter  I  wiU  not  talk  much  with  you ;  for  the 
prince  of  this  world  cometh,  and  hath  nothing  in  me.  But 
that  the  world  may  know  that  I  love  the  Father ;  and  as 
the  Father  gave  me  commandment,  even  so  I  do.  Arise,  let 
us  go  hence." 

It  was  now  probably  about  midnight.  Jesus  and  his  apostles 
sang  a  hymn,  rose  from  the  paschal  supper,  and  went  to  the 
Mount  of  Olives.  Jesus  was  going  to  be  betrayed,  and  to 
die,  with  the  whole  scene  of  suffering  open  to  his  mind.  His 
apostles,  bewildered,  and  overwhelmed  with  grief,  knew  that 
something  awful  was  about  to  take  place  ;  but  they  scaisely 
comprehended  what.  As  they  walked  sadly  along,  Jesus  con- 
tinued his  discourse,  saying,  "  I  am  the  true  vine,  and  my  Fa- 
ther is  the  husbandman.  Every  branch  in  me  that  beareth 
not  fruit  he  taketh  away;  and  every  branch  that  beareth 
fruit  he  purgeth  it,  that  it  may  bring  forth  more  fruit.  ISTow 
ye  are  clean  through  the  word  which  I  have  spoken  unto  you. 
As  the  branch  cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself  except  it  abide  in  tha 
vine,  no  more  can  ye  except  ye  abide  in  me.  I  am  the  vine  : 
ye  are  the  branches.  He  that  abideth  in  me,  and  I  in  him, 
the  same  bringeth  forth  much  fruit ;  for  without  me  ye  can  do 
nothing. 

"  If  a  man  abide  not  in  me,  he  is  cast  forth  as  a  branch,  and 
is  withered;  and  men  gather  them,  and  cast  them  into  tha 
fire,  and  they  are  burned.  If  ye  abide  in  me,  and  my  woids 
abide  in  you,  ye  shall  ask  what  ye  will,  and  it  shall  be  done 
unto  you.  Herein  is  my  Father  glorified,  that  ye  bear  mach 
fruit :  so  shall  ye  be  my  disciples.  As  the  Father  hath  loved 
me,  so  have  I  loved  you :  continue  ye  in  my  love.  These 
things  have  I  spoken  unto  you  that  my  joy  migh^^  remain  in 
you,  and  that  your  joy  might  be  full.  This  is  my  command- 
ment. That  ye  love  one  another  as  I  have  loved  you.  Greater 
love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life 
for  his  friends.  Ye  are  my  friends  if  ye  do  whatsoever  I 
command  you.     Henceforth  I  call  you  not  servants ;  for  tha 


LAST  LABORS,   AND   FAREWELL.  119 

servant  knowetli  not  what  his  lord  doeth :  but  I  have  called 
you  friends ;  for  all  things  that  I  have  heard  of  my  Father 
I  have  made  known  unto  you.  Ye  have  not  chosen  me ;  but  I 
have  chosen  you,  and  ordained  you,  that  ye  should  go  and 
bring  forth  fruit,  and  that  your  fruit  should  remain;  that 
whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  of  the  Father  in  my  name,  he  may 
give  it  you. 

"  These  things  I  command  you,  that  ye  love  one  another. 
If  the  world  hate  you,  ye  know  that  it  hated  me  before  it 
hated  you.  If  ye  were  of  the  world,  the  world  would  love 
his  own  ;  but  because  ye  are  not  of  the  world,  but  I  have 
chosen  you  out  of  the  world,  therefore  the  world  hateth  you. 
If  they  have  persecuted  rue,  they  will  also  persecute  you ;  if 
they  have  kept  my  saying,  they  will  keep  yours  also.  But  all 
these  things  will  they  do  unto  you  for  my  name's  sake,  be- 
cause they  know  not  Him  that  sent  me.  If  I  had  not  come 
%nd  spoken  unto  them,  they  had  not  had  sin ;  but  now  they 
have  no  cloak  for  their  sin.  He  that  hateth  me  hateth  my 
Fathe"  also.  If  I  had  not  done  among  them  the  works  which 
none  other  man  did,  they  had  not  had  sin;  but  now  have 
they  both  seen  and  hated  both  me  and  my  Father.  But  this 
cometh  to  pass,  that  the  word  might  be  fulfilled  that  is  written 
'n  their  law.  They  hated  me  without  a  cause.  But  when  the 
Comforter  is  come,  whom  I  will  send  unto  you  from  the  Fa- 
ther, even  the  Spirit  of  truth,  which  proceedeth  from  the 
Father,  he  shall  testify  of  me ;  and  ye  also  shall  bear  wit- 
ness, because  ye  have  been  with  me  from  the  beginning." 

Jesus  then  again  warned  the  apostles  of  the  sufferings  to 
which  they  would  be  exposed ;  entreated  them  to  persevere ; 
assured  them  that  he  would  send  the  Comforter  to  sustain 
them  in  every  trial,  who  should  guide  them  to  all  truth ;  and 
reiterated  the  assertion,  "  I  came  forth  from  the  Father,  and 
am  come  into  the  world :  again  I  leave  the  world,  and  go  to 
the  Father."  * 

Having  thus  finished  his  farewell  discourse  to  his  apostles, 
standing  with  them  at  midnight  upon  the  greensward  outside 

'  John  xvi.  1-23. 


120  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

of  the  walls  of  the  city,  with  darkness  and  silence  around,  and 
the  stars  above,  he  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  breathed  the 
most  solemn,  comprehensive,  and  impressive  prayer  that  was 
ever  uttered  by  mortal  lips. 

"  Father,"  said  he,  "  the  hour  is  come :  glorify  thy  Son, 
that  thy  Son  also  may  glorify  thee  :  as  thou  hast  given  him 
power  over  all  flesh,  that  he  should  give  eternal  life  to  as 
many  as  thou  hast  given  him.  And  this  is  life  eternal,  that 
they  might  know  thee  the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ, 
whom  thou  hast  sent.  I  have  glorified  thee  on  the  earth  :  I  have 
finished  the  work  which  thou  gavest  me  to  do.  And  now,  0 
Father !  glorify  thou  me  with  thine  own  self  with  the  glory 
which  I  had  with  thee  before  the  world  was.  I  have  mani- 
fested thy  name  unto  the  men  which  thou  gavest  me  oat  of  the 
world  :  thine  they  were,  and  thou  gavest  them  me  ;  and  they 
have  kept  thy  word.  Now,  they  have  known  that  all  things 
whatsoever  thou  hast  given  me  are  of  thee.  For  I  have  given 
unto  them  the  words  which  thou  gavest  me  ;  and  I;hey  hava 
received  them,  and  have  known  surely  that  I  came  out  from 
thee,  and  they  have  believed  that  thou  didst  send  me. 

"  I  pray  for  them :  I  pray  not  for  the  world,  but  for  them 
which  thou  hast  given  me ;  for  they  are  thine.  And  aU  mine 
are  thine,  and  thine  are  mine ;  and  I  am  glorified  in  them. 
And  now  I  am  no  more  in  the  world,  but  these  are  in  the 
world  ;  and  I  come  to  thee.  Holy  Father,  keep  through  thine 
own  name  those  whom  thou  hast  given  me,  that  they  may  be 
one  as  we  are.  While  I  was  with  them  in  the  world,  I  kept 
them  in  thy  name.  Those  that  thou  gavest  me  I  have  kept, 
and  none  of  them  is  lost  but  the  son  of  perdition  ;  that  the 
scripture  might  be  fulfilled.  And  now  come  I  to  thee  ;  and 
these  things  I  speak  in  the  world,  that  they  might  have  my 
joy  fulfilled  in  themselves. 

"  I  have  given  them  thy  word ;  and  the  world  hath  hated 
them,  because  they  are  not  of  the  world,  even  as  I  am  not  of 
the  world.  I  pray  not  that  thou  shouldest  take  them  out  of  the 
world,  but  that  thou  shouldest  keep  them  from  the  evil.  They 
»re  not  of  the  world,  even  as  I  am  not  of  the  world.     Sanctify 


LAST  LABORS,   AND  FAREWELL.  121 

them  through  thy  truth :  thy  word  is  truth.  As  thou  hast 
sent  me  into  the  world,  even  so  have  I  also  sent  them  into  th« 
world.  And  for  their  sakes  I  sanctify  myself,  that  they  also 
might  be  sanctified  through  the  truth. 

"  Neither  pray  I  for  these  alone,  but  for  them  also  which  shah 
believe  on  me  through  their  word  ;  that  they  all  may  be  one  ; 
as  thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they  also  may  be 
Dne  in  us  ;  that  the  world  may  believe  that  thou  hast  sent  me 
And  the  glory  which  thou  gavest  me  I  have  given  them,  that 
they  may  be  one  even  as  we  are  one  :  I  in  them,  and  thou  in 
me,  that  they  may  be  made  perfect  in  one  ;  and  that  the  world 
may  know  that  thou  hast  sent  me,  and  hast  loved  them  as  thou 
hast  loved  me. 

"  Father,  I  wUl  that  they  also  whom  thou  hast  given  me  be 
with  me  where  I  am,  that  they  may  behold  my  glory  which 
thou  hast  given  me  ;  for  thou  lovedst  me  before  the  foundation 
of  the  world.  0  righteous  Father !  the  World  hath  not  known 
thee  ;  but  I  have  known  thee,  and  these  have  known  that 
thou  hast  sent  me.  And  I  have  declared  unto  them  thy  name, 
and  «vili  declare  it ;  that  the  love  wherewith  thou  hast  loved 
me  may  be  in  them,  and  I  in  them." ' 

^  John  xtU. 


CHAPTER  V. 


AKREST,    TRIAL,   AND    CRUCIFIXION. 


Asguish  of  Jesus.  — His  Prayers  in  the  Garden.  — The  Arrest.  —  Peter's  Reck 
lessnesit. — Flight  of  the  Apostles.  —  Jesus  led  to  Annas;  to  Caiaphas.  —  Jesui 
affirms  that  he  is  the  Messiah.  —  Frivolous  Accusations.  —  Peter  denies  his 
Lord.  — Jesus  Is  conducted  to  Pilate.  — The  Examination.  —  Scourging  the 
Innocent.  —  Insults  and  Mockery.  —  Rage  of  the  Chief  Priests  and  Scribes.— 
Embarrassment  of  Pilate.  —  He  surrenders  Jesus  to  his  Enemies.  —  The  Cruci- 
fixion. —  The  Resurrection.  — Repeated  Appearance  to  his  Disciples. 


ICSUS  having  finished  this  prayer,  the  little  band 
descended  into  the  Valley  of  Jehoshaphat,  a  deep 
and  dark  ravine,  and,  crossing  the  Brook  Kedron, 
entered  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane,  a  secluded 
spot,  which  Christ  often  visited  for  retirement  and 
prayer.  Here  Jesus  seems  to  have  been  over- 
whelmed in  contemplating  the  mysterious  suffer- 
ings he  was  about  to  experience.  The  language  used  by  the 
inspired  writers  indicates  the  highest  possible  degree  of  men- 
tal agony.  He  "  began  to  be  sore  amazed  and  very  heavy." 
These  words,  in  the  original,  express  the  most  excruciating 
anguish,  —  a  torture  which  threatens  to  separate  soul  from 
body,  and  which  utterly  overwhelms  the  sufferer.  As  though 
he  could  not  bear  to  be  alone  in  that  dreadful  hour,  he  took 
with  him  Peter,  James,  and  John,  and  withdrew  from  the  rest 
of  the  apostles,  for  a  little  distance,  into  the  silence  and  midnight 
gloom  of  the  garden.  He  then  said  to  his  three  compan- 
ions, — 

122 


THE  PRAYER   IN  THE   GARDEN. 


ARREST,    TRIAL,   AND  CRUCIFIXION.  123 

"My -soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful,  even  unto  death.  Tarry 
ye  here,  and  watch  with  me." 

He  then  withdrew  a  little  farther  —  "  about  a  stone's  cast " 
—  from  them,  and  fell  upon  his  face,  on  the  ground,  and  prayed, 
Baying,  — 

"  0  my  Father !  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me. 
Nevertheless,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt." 

In  answer  to  his  prayer,  an  angel  appeared  unto  him  from 
heaven,  strengthening  him.  And  yet,  notwithstanding  the 
support  thus  furnished,  the  anguish  of  this  dreadful  hour  in 
which  he  was  about  to  bear  the  mysterious  burden  of  the 
woild's  atonement  was  so  terrible,  that,  "being  in  an  agony, 
he  prayed  more  earnestly  ;  and  his  sweat  was  as  it  were  great 
drops  of  blood  falling  down  to  the  ground."  ^ 

After  this  scene  of  anguish  and  prayer,  which  probably  occu- 
pied an  hour,  he  returned  to  his  three  disciples,  and  found  them 
asleep.  He  gently  reproached  them,  saying  to  Peter,  "  Could  ye 
not  watch  with  me  one  hour  ?  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  enter 
not  into  temptation:  the  spirit  indeed  is  willing;  but  the 
flash  is  weak." 

Again  he  retired  the  second  time,  and  the  same  scene  of 
inexpressible  and  unimaginable  mental  suffering  was  re-enacted. 
Jesus  recoiled  not  from  the  physical  pain  of  the  cross  ;  never 
were  buffeting,  scourging,  crucifixion,  borne  more  meekly,  more 
uncomplainingly :  but  this  agony  seems  to  have  surpassed  aU 
mortal  comprehension.     It  is  recorded,  — 

"  He  went  away  again  the  second  time,  and  prayed,  saying, 
0  my  Father  !  if  this  cup  may  not  pass  away  except  I  drink 
it,  thy  will  be  done." 

Returning,  he  found  his  friends  once  more  asleep.  It  was 
late  in  the  night ;  and,  worn  out  with  anxiety  and  exhaustion, 
we  are  told  that  "  their  eyes  were  heavy."  It  is  evident  that 
Jesus,  engaged  in  his  agonizing  prayer,  had  been  for  some  time 
absent  from  them.  He  did  not  reproach  them,  and  they  had 
no  excuse  to  offer. 

"  And  he  left  them,  and  went  away  again,  and  prayed  the 

1  Luke  xxii.  43.  44. 


124  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIAI^ITY. 

third  time,  saying  the  same  words."  Then,  returning,  and  find- 
ing them  stUl  asleep,  he  said,  perhaps  a  little  reproachfully, — 

"  Sleep  on  now,  and  take  your  rest.  Behold,  the  hour  is  at 
hand,  and  the  Son  of  man  is  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  sinners. 
Rise,  let  us  be  going.  Behold,  he  is  at  hand  that  doth  betray 
me." 

While  he  was  speaking  these  words,  the  light  of  torches  was 
seen  approaching.  Judas  knew  well  where  to  find  Jesus ;  for 
he  had  often  accompanied  him  to  this  retreat.  He  took  with 
him  a  band  of  Roman  soldiers,  and  of&cers  of  the  Sanhedrim, 
"with  lanterns,  torches,  and  weapons."  As  it  was  night,  and 
Jesus,  in  the  shades  of  the  garden,  was  accompanied  by  his 
twelve  disciples,  there  was  danger  that  he  might  escape,  and 
in  the  ruorning  rally  the  people  to  his  rescue.  Also,  in  the 
darkness,  it  would  be  difficult  for  the  soldiers  to  discriminate 
persons  so  as  to  know  which  of  them  to  arrest.  Judas,  there- 
fore, gave  them  a  sign,  saying,  — 

"Whomsoever  I  shall  kiss,  that  same  is  he.  Take  him,  and 
hold  him  fast." 

The  kiss  was  then  the  ordinary  mode  of  salutation,  like  shak- 
ing of  hands  now.  Judas,  followed  by  the  band,  approacned 
his  well-known  Lord,  and  said,  "Hail,  Master;  and  kissed 
him."     Jesus  calmly  replied,  — 

"  Friend,  wherefore  art  thou  come  ?  Betrayest  thou  the  Son 
of  man  with  a  kiss  ?  " 

Advancing  towards  the  soldiers,  he  said  to  them,  "  Whom 
aeek  ye  ?  "  They  said,  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth."  Jesus  replied, 
"  I  am  he."  There  was  something  in  his  address  and  bearing 
which  so  overawed  them,  that  for  a  moment  they  were  power- 
less ;  and  "  they  went  backward,  and  fell  to  the  ground." 

"  Then  asked  he  them  again.  Whom  seek  ye  ?  And  they 
eaid,  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  Jesus  answered,  I  have  told  you 
that  I  am  he.  If,  therefore,  ye  seek  me,  let  these  go  the'r 
way." 

Judas  slunk  away  into  the  darkness,  and  the  soldiers  seized 
Jesus.  The  impetuous  Peter  "drew  a  sword,"  probably  snatch- 
ing it  from  one  of  the  soldiers,  and  "  smote  a  servant  of  the 


ARREST,   TRIAL,  AND   CRUCIFIXION.  125 

high  priest,  and  cut  off  his  ear."  Jesus  reproved  him, 
Baying,  — 

"  Put  up  again  thy  sword  into  his  place ;  for  all  they  that 
take  the  sword  shall  perish  with  the  sword.  Thinkest  thou 
that  I  cannot  now  pray  to  my  Father,  and  he  sh?,ll  presently 
give  me  more  than  twelve  legions  of  angels  ?  But  how,  then, 
shall  the  scriptures  be  fulfilled,  that  thus  it  must  be  ?  '' 

Turning  to  the  wounded  servant,  he  said  to  him,  "  Suifer 
ye  thus  far ;  "  and,  touching  his  ear,  he  healed  him.  Then,  ad- 
dressing the  soldiers,  he  said,  — 

"Are  ye  come  out  as  against  a  thief,  with  swords  and 
staves,  to  take  me  ?  I  was  daily  with  you  in  the  temple,  and 
ye  took  me  not ;  but  the  scriptures  must  be  fulfilled.  This 
is  your  hour  and  the  power  of  darkness." 

It  seems  incomprehensible,  that,  under  these  circumstances, 
the  apostles  could  have  been  so  terror-stricken,  as,  with  one 
accord,  to  have  abandoned  Jesus,  and  fled ;  but  they  all  did 
it,  —  the  valiant  Peter  with  the  rest.  Jesus,  thus  utterly  for- 
saken, was  left  alone  with  his  enemies. 

The  soldiers  bound  Jesus,  and  conducted  him  back  into  the 
city,  and  led  him  to  the  house  of  Annas.  He  had  formerly 
b'^en  high  priest.  His  son-in-law  Caiaphas  now  occupied  that 
oflGce.  Annas  was  a  man  of  great  influence,  and  it  was  impor- 
tant to  obtain  his  sanction  in  the  lawless  enterprise  in  which 
the  Jewish  rulers  were  now  engaged.  It  seems  that  Annas 
was  not  disposed  to  incur  the  responsibility  of  these  deeds  of 
violence ;  and  Jesus  was  led  to  the  house  of  Caiaphas.  Of  the 
dispersed  apostles,  two  of  them  (Peter,  and  probably  John)  fol- 
lowed the  guard  at  a  distance,  furtively  creeping  beneath  the 
shadows  of  the  trees  and  the  houses.  Though  it  was  still 
night,  a  meeting  of  the  Sanhedrim,  but  an  illegal  one,  had 
been  convened  in  the  palace  of  Caiaphas.  Twenty-three  mem- 
bers constituted  a  court.  Caiaphas  presided.  Jesus  was  led 
into  the  hall  before  them  for  a  preliminary  examination. 

By  this  time  there  was  probably  some  considerable  tumult, 
and  the  gradual  gathering  of  a  crowd.  Peter  and  the  other 
apostle  cautiously  approached  the  palace,  and  obtained  admis- 


126  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

sion  to  watch  the  proceedings,  without  making  themselves 
known  as  the  followers  of  Jesus.  Peter  sat  with  the  servants, 
who  had  gathered  around  the  fire  which  had  heen  kindled  in 
the  great  hall. 

The  high  priest  inquired  of  Jesus  respecting  the  number  of 
his  followers,  and  the  sentiments  he  had  inculcated.  Jesus 
replied,  — 

''  I  spake  openly  to  the  world.  I  ever  taught  in  the  syna- 
gogue and  in  the  temple,  whither  the  Jews  always  resort.  In 
secret  have  I  said  nothing.  Why  askest  thou  me  ?  Ask  them 
which  heard  me :  behold,  they  know  what  I  said." 

This  reply,  though  perfectly  respectful,  so  exasperated  one 
of  the  attending  officers,  that  he  struck  Jesus  in  the  face  with 
the  palm  of  his  hand.  To  this  Jesus  meekly  replied,  "  If  I 
have  spoken  evil,  bear  witness  of  the  evil ;  but  if  well,  why 
smitest  thou  me  ?  " 

False  witnesses  had  been  bribed  to  testify  against  Jesus ; 
but  they  contradicted  each  other,  and  could  bring  forward  no 
charge  against  him  worthy  of  serious  consideration.  At  last 
they  brought  forth  the  silly  accusation,  ^'  We  heard  him  say,  I 
am  able  to  destroy  the  temple  of  God,  and  to  build  it  in  three 
days." 

Jesus  did  not  condescend  any  reply  to  such  frivolous  charges, 
but  maintained  perfect  silence.  Caiaphas  said  to  him, 
"Answerest  thou  nothing?  What  is  it  which  these  witness 
against  theo  ?  "  Still  Jesus  was  silent.  The  charges  brought 
against  him  were  sufficiently  preposterous,  without  any  defence 
on  his  part.  Caiaphas  was  not  a  little  perplexed,  and  in  hif> 
perplexity  said,  — 

"  I  adjure  thee  by  the  living  God,  that  thou  tell  u?  whethei 
thou  be  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God." 

Jesus  replied,  "  I  am ;  and  hereafter  ye  shall  see  the  Son 
of  man  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of  power,  and  coming  in  th" 
clouds  of  heaven." 

Caiaphas  affected  to  be  shocked.  He  rent  his  dotnes,  -say- 
ing, "  What  need  we  any  further  witnesses  ?  Ye  have  heard 
the  blasphemy.  What  think  ye  ?  And  they  all  condemned 
him  to  be  guilty  of  death." 


ARREST,   TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION.  127 

While  this  cruel  farce  was  being  enacted,  Peter  sat  warming 
himself  by  the  fire,  not  far  from  Jesus,  conversing  occasionally 
with  the  servants.  One  of  the  maid-servants  looked  upon  him, 
and  said,  "  Thou  also  wast  with  Jesus  of  Nazareth."  Peter 
replied,  "Woman,  I  know  him  not."  Soon  after,  a  man-ser^'ant 
reiterated  the  charge,  saying,  "  Thou  art  also  of  them."  Peter 
again  replied,  "  Man,  I  am  not."  About  an  hour  after,  several 
who  ^tood  by  said,  "  Surely  thou  art  one  of  them  ;  for  thou  art 
a  Galilean,  and  thy  speech  bewrayeth  thee.  But  he  began  to 
curse  and  to  swear,  saying,  I  know  not  this  man  of  whom  ye 
speak." 

Just  at  that  moment,  the  clear  crowing  of  a  cock  was  heard 
once  and  again.  Jesus,  who  had  overheard  all  this  conversa- 
tion, turned  round,  and  simply  looked  at  Peter.  That  sad  and 
sorrowing  plance  pierced  like  a  two-edged  sword.  The  pro- 
phetic words  of  Jesus  rang  in  his  ears  :  "  Before  the  cock  crow 
twice,  thou  shalt  deny  me  thrice."  The  wretched  man  "  went 
out  and  wept  bitterly." 

A  scene  of  awful  insult  and  suffering  now  ensued,  such  as 
perhaps  never  before  or  since  has  been  witnessed  in  a  nominal 
court  of  justice.  They  spat  in  his  face ;  they  beat  him  with 
their  clinched  fists  and  with  the  palms  of  their  hands ;  they 
mocked  him,  sayin?^,  "Prophesy  unto  us,  thou  Christ,  Who  is 
he  that  smote  thee  ?"  Even  the  servants  joined  in  the  gen- 
eral outrage  of  derision  and  violence. 

The  morning  had  now  dawned.  The  chief  priests  and  elders 
took  counsel  how  they  might  put  Jesus  to  death.  This  could 
not  be  done  without  the  consent  of  the  Roman  governor.  They 
therefore  bound  him  again,  and  led  him  to  Pontius  Pilate,  a 
cruel  despot,  who  was  then  Roman  governor  of  Judaea.  Early 
as  it  was,. quite  a  crowd  followed  as  Jesus  was  led  from  the 
hall  of  Caiaphas  to  the  judgment-seat  of  Pilate. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  miserable  Judas  Iscariot,  overwhelmed 
with  remorse,  threw  away  his  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  and  went 
and  hanged  himself  Pilate  met  the  Jews  with  their  vic- 
tim as  they  approached  the  judgment-hall,  and  inquired, 
'*  What  accusation  bring  ye  against  this  man  ?  "    They  replied, 


128  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

''If  he  were  iiot  a  malefactor,  we  would  not  have  delivered  him 
up  unto  thee."  Pilate  replied,  ''Take  him  and  judge  him 
according  to  your  law."  They,  thirsting  for  his  blood,  an- 
swered, "  It  is  not  lawful  for  us  to  put  any  man  to  death." 
Pilate  then  addressed  himself  to  Jesus,  and  inquired,  "  Art 
thou  King  of  the  Jews  ?  "  Jesus  replied  by  asking  the  ques- 
tion, — 

"Sayest  thou  this  of  thyself?  or  did  others  tell  it  thee  of  me  'f  '' 

Pilate  answered,  "  Am  I  a  Jew  ?  Thine  own  nation  and 
the  chief  priests  have  delivered  thee  unto  me.  What  hast 
thou  done?" 

Jesus  replied,  "  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world.  If  my 
kingdom  were  of  this  world,  then  would  my  servants  tight,  that 
I  should  not  be  delivered  to  the  Jews ;  but  now  is  my  king- 
dom not  from  hence." 

Pilate  rejoined,  "  Art  thou  a  king,  then  ?  " 

Jesus  said,  "Thou  sayest "  (i.e.,  it  is  so)  " I  am  a  king.  To 
this  end  was  I  born,  and  for  this  cause  came  I  into  the  world, 
that  I  should  bear  witness  unto  the  truth.  Every  one  that  is 
of  the  truth  heareth  my  voice." 

Pilate,  having  carelessly  inquired  "  What  is  truth  ?  "  with- 
out waiting  for  any  answer,  turned  to  the  Jews,  and  said, 
"  I  find  in  him  no  fault  at  all.  But  ye  have  a  custom  that  I 
should  release  unto  you  one  at  the  passover  :  will  ye,  therefore^ 
that  I  release  unto  you  the  King  of  the  Jews  ?" 

There  was  then  in  prison  a  noted  robber  and  murderer  by 
the  name  of  Barabbas.  With  one  accord  these  Jewish  rulers 
cried  out,  "  Not  this  man,  but  Barabbas  !  " 

Then  Pilate,  though  he  had  already  declared  Jesus  to  be 
innocent,  infamously  ordered  him  to  be  scourged,  that  he 
misrht  conciliate  the  favor  of  the  Jews.  It  pales  one's  cheek  to 
think  jvhat  it  was  to  be  scourged  by  the  sinewy  arms  of  the 
Roman   soldiery.^      After  Jesus  had  undergone  this  terrible 

*  "Cruel  hands  disrobed  the  still  uncomplaining  sufferer.  Brawny  arms 
wielded  upon  his  naked  back  the  fearful  scourge,  whose  thongs  of  leather,  loaded 
with  sharp  metal,  cut  at  every  stroke  their  bloody  furrow  in  the  quivering  desh. 
This  torture,  beneath  which  many  a  strong  man  had  given  up  his  life,  could  not 
extort  from  the  steadfast  heart  of  Jesus  a  single  groan."  —  Life  of  Jesus  o/Naza- 
k'tf'vt  by  Lyman  Abbott,  p.  469 


ARREST,   TRT.AL,  AND   CRUCIFIXION.  129 

inflicticn  without  the  utterance  of  a  word,  while  fainting  with 
aifgnish  and  the  loss  of  blood,  the  ribald  soldiers  platted  a 
crown  of  thorns,  and  forced  it  upon  his  brow,  piercing  the  flesh 
with  its  sharp  points,  and  crimsoning  his  cheeks  with  blood. 
A  purple  robe  they  threw  over  his  shoulders,  and  placed  a 
reed,  in  mockery  of  a  sceptre,  in  his  hand  :  derisively  they 
shouted,  "  Hail,  King  of  the  Jews ! "  while  they  smote  him 
with  their  hands. 

The  infamous  Pilate  led  Jesus  forth  thus,  exhausted,  bleed- 
ing, and  held  up  co  derision,  to  the  Jews,  saying  at  the  same 
time,  "  Behold,  I  bring  him  forth  to  you,  that  ye  may  know 
that  I  find  no  fault  in  him." 

But  the  rulers,  clamorous  for  his  blood,  not  satisfied  with  even 
this  aspect  of  misery,  cried  out,  "  Crucify  him,  crucify  him  !  " 
Pilate,  wicked  as  he  was,  recoiled  from  the  thought  of  putting 
one  so  entirely  innocent  to  death.  He  therefore  said  impa- 
tiently and  sarcastically,  "  TaK3  ye  him,  and  crucify  him ;  for 
I  find  no  fault  in  him."  This  he  said,  knowing  that  the  Jews 
had  no  legal  power  to  da  this.  But  they  replied,  "We  have  a 
law ;  and  by  our  law  he  ought  to  die,  because  he  made  him- 
self the  Son  of  God." 

Pilate  was  greatly  troubled.  The  bearing  of  Jesus  had 
deeply  impressed  him.  He  was  fearful  that  there  might  be 
Bomething  divine  in  his  character  and  mission.  Turning  to 
Jesus,  he  said,  "Whence  art  thou  ?  "  (i.e.,  "What  is  thy  origin 
and  parentage  ?  ")    Jesus  made  no  reply.    Pilate  then  added,  — 

"  Speakest  thou  not  unto  me  ?  Knowest  thou  not  that  I 
have  power  to  crucify  thee,  and  power  to  release  thee  ?  " 

Jesus  replied,  "  Thou  couldst  have  no  power  at  all  except  it 
were  given  thee  from  above.  Therefore  he  that  delivered  me 
unto  thee  hath  the  greater  sin."  ^ 

Pilate  was  now  really  desirous  of  liberatiug  Jesus ;  but 
being  a  weak  and  wavering  man,  totally  deficient  in  moral 
courage,  he  knew  not  how  to  resist  the  clamors  of  the  Jews. 
They  endeavored  to  goad  him  to  gratify  them  by  the  menace, 

*  This  probably  refers  to  Caiaphas,  the  higli  priest,  as  representing  the  Jewish 
authorities. 

9 


130  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

"  If  thou  let  this  man  go,  thou  art  not  Caesar's  friend.  Who- 
soever maketh  himself  a  king  speaketh  against  Csesar." 

Pilate  was  not  on  very  good  terms  with  the  imperial  gov- 
ernment. He  knew  that  any  report  that  he  was  unfaithful  to 
Caesar  might  cost  him  his  ofl&ce. 

Pilate  still  persisted,  "I  find  no  fault  "'n  this  man.  And 
they  were  more  fierce,  saying,  He  stirreth  up  the  people, 
teaching  throughout  all  Jewry,  beginning  from  Galilee  to  this 
place."  Pilate  caught  at  this  allusion  to  Galilee,  and  hoped 
that  there  was  a  new  chance  to  extricate  himself  from  his  diffi- 
culties. As  a  Galilean,  Jesus  belonged  to  Herod's  jurisdiction  ; 
and  it  so  chanced  that  Herod  was  at  that  time  in  J  erusalem. 
He  therefore  sent  him  under  a  guard  to  Herod.  A  band  of 
chief  priests  and  scribes  accompanied  the  prisoner  to  this  jxqw 
tribunal,  and  "vehemently  accused  him.  Herod,  with  his 
men  at  war,  set  him  at  nought,  and  mocked  him,  and  arrayed 
him  in  a  gorgeous  robe,  and  sent  him  again  to  Pilate.  It  was 
now  about  twelve  o'clock  at  noon.  Pilate  presented  Jesus  to 
the  Jews,  saying  scornfully,  "  Behold  your  King  !  " 

A  scene  of  tumult  and  clamor  ensued,  the  rulers  crying  out, 
"  Crucify  him,  crucify  him  !  "  Then  Pilate  said,  "  Ye  have 
brought  this  man  unto  me  as  one  that  perverteth  the  people ; 
and  behold,  I,  having  examined  him  before  you,  have  found 
no  fault  in  this  man  touching  those  things  whereof  ye  accuse 
him  :  no,  nor  yet  Herod ;  for  I  sent  you  to  him  ;  and,  lo,  noth- 
ing worthy  of  death  is  done  unto  him.  I  will  therefore  chas- 
tise him  and  release  him."  ^ 

Still  the  clamor  rose,  "  Crucify  him,  crucify  him  !  "  Pilata 
was  seriously  troubled.  While  these  scenes  had  been  trans- 
piring, his  wife  had  sent  a  messenger  to  him,  saying,  — 

"  Have  thou  nothing  to  do  with  that  just  man ;  for  I  have 
suffered  many  things  this  day  in  a  dream  because  of  him." 

But  Pilate  had  force  of  character  only  in  wickedness.  In 
violation  of  every  dictate  of  his  judgment,  he  surrendered 
Jesus  to  his  foes.  "  When  Pilate  saw  that  he  could  prevail 
nothing,  but   that  rather  a  tumult  was  made,  he  took  water, 

>  Luke  xxiii.  13-16. 


ARREST,   TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION.  131 

and  washed  his  hands  before  the  multitude,  saying,  I  am 
innocent  of  the  blood  of  this  just  person.     See  ye  to  it." 

The  Jews  replied,  "  His  blood  be  on  us  and  on  our  chil- 
dren." Pilate  then,  having  released  Barabbas,  again  ordered 
Jesus  to  be  scourged,  and  delivered  him  to  the  Jews  to  be  cru- 
cified. The  soldiers  led  Jesus  into  the  common  hall  of  the 
palace,  and  summoned  all  their  comrades  to  take  part  in  the  aw- 
ful tragedy  in  which  they  were  engaged. 

First  they  stripped  Jesus,  then  put  on  him  a  scarlet  robe, 
placed  a  crown  of  thorns  upon  his  head,  put  a  reed  in  his 
hand,  and  bowed  the  knee  before  him,  and  derisively  exclaimed, 
"Hai;.  King  of  the  Jews!" 

At  length,  weary  of  the  mockery,  they  took  off  his  impe- 
;ial  robes,  clothed  him  again  in  his  own  garments,  spat  upon 
him,  smote  him  on  the  head  with  the  reed,  and  led  him  away 
to  crucify  Lim.  A  heavy  wooden  cross  was  placed  upon  the 
shoulders  of  Jesus,  which  he  was  to  bear  outside  of  the  watls 
of  the  city,  where  it  was  to  be  planted,  and  he  was  to  be 
nailed  to  it.  Exhausted  by  the  sufferings  which  he  had 
already  endured,  he  soon  sank  fainting  beneath  the  load. 
The  soldiers  met  a  stranger  from  Cyrene,  and  compelled  him 
to  bear  the  cross.  Thus  they  proceeded,  followed  by  an  im- 
mense crowd  of  people,  men  and  women,  many  of  the  women 
weeping  bitterly.     Jesus  turned  to  them,  and  said,  — 

"Daughters  of  Jerusalem,  weep  not  for  me,  but  weep  for 
yoarselves  and  for  your  children.  For,  behold,  the  days  are 
coming  in  which  they  shall  say,  Blessed  are  the  barren,  and  the 
wombs  that  never  bare,  and  the  paps  which  never  gave  suck. 
Then  shall  they  begin  to  say  to  the  mountains.  Fall  on  us  ;  and 
to  the  hills.  Cover  us.  For,  if  they  do  these  things  in  a  green 
tree,  what  shall  be  done  in  the  dry."  ^ 

They  came  to  a  small  eminence,  a  short  distance  from  the 
city,  and  beyond  its  walls,  which  was  called  Mount  Calvary, 
sometimes  Golgotha.  The  place  of  the  execution  of  Jesus  is 
not  now  known.     He  was  nailed  by  his  hands  and  his  feet  to 

1  This  last  phrase  was  a  proverbial  expression.  A  "  green  tree  "  represented 
the  righteous ;  the  "  dry  tree  "  the  wiclied,  fit  only  to  be  burned. 


132  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

the  cross,  and  the  cross  was  planted  in  the  ground.  By  his  side 
two  thieves  suflFered  the  same  punishment.  Jesus,  as  in  thia 
hour  of  terrible  agony  he  looked  down  from  the  cross  upon 
his  foes,  was  heard  to  breathe  the  prayer,  "Father,  forgive 
them ;  for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

Pilate  wrote  the  inscription,  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the 
KiiiTG  OF  THE  Jews."  This,  in  Hebrew,  Greek,  and  Latin, 
was  nailed  over  the  cross.  The  Jews  wished  to  have  it 
changed  to  ^^ He  said  I  am  the  King  of  the  Jews;"  but 
Pilate  refused  to  make  the  alteration.  Of  the  two  thieves  who 
were  crucified  with  Jesus,  one  was  obdurate.  Even  in  that  houi 
of  suffering  and  death  he  could  revile  Jesus,  saying,  "  If  thotr 
be  the  Christ,  save  thyself  and  us."  The  other,  in  the  spirit 
of  true  penitence,  rebuked  the  companion  of  his  crimes,  say- 

iiig,— 

"Dost  not  thou  fear  God,  seeing  thou  art  m  the  same 
condemnation  ?  And  we  indeed  justly,  for  we  receive  the  due 
reward  of  our  deeds ;  but  this  man  hath  done  nothing  amiss." 
Then,  turning  his  eyes  to  Jesus,  he  said,  "  Lord,  remember  me 
when  thou  comest  into  thy  kingdom." 

Jesus  replied,  "  Verily  I  say  unto  thee,  To-day  shalt  thou  be 
with  me  in  paradise." 

As  Jesus  hung  upon  the  cross,  his  sufferings  excited  no 
pity  on  the  part  of  his  foes.  They  reviled  him,  saying,  "  If 
thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  come  down  from  the  cross.  H« 
saved  others  :  himself  he  cannot  save.  He  trusted  in  God  : 
let  him  deliver  him  now,  if  he  will  have  him ;  for  he  said,  I 
am  the  Son  of  God." 

The  mother  of  Jesus,  and  two  other  women  who  had  been 
his  devoted  friends,  and  the  apostle  John,  stood  by  the  side  of 
the  cross.  Jesus,  addressing  his  mother,  and  then  turning  his 
eyes  to  John,  said,  "  Woman,  behold  thy  son ! "  To  John  he 
said,  "  Behold  thy  mother !  "  From  that  hour  John  took  Mary 
to  his  home. 

There  now  came  supernatural  darkness  over  the  whole  land, 
which  continued  until  about  three  o'clock.  Jesus,  being  then 
in  his  dying  agonies,  exclaimed  with  a  loud  voice,  "  My  God; 


ARREST,   TRIAL,  AND   CRUCIFIXION.  133 

my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? "  and  then  he  added, 
"  I  thirst."  Some  one,  probably  kindly  disposed,  ran,  and,  fill- 
ing a  sponge  with  vinegar,  raised  it  upon  a  reed  to  the  lips  of 
the  sufferer.  Jesus,  simply  tasting  of  it,  said,  "  It  is  fin- 
ished I "  and  with  a  loud  voice  exclaimed,  "  Father,  into  thy 
hands  I  commend  my  spirit !  "  and  died. 

At  that  moment,  the  massive  veil  of  the  temple  in  Jerusa- 
lem, which  concealed  the  holy  of  holies,  was  rent  in  twain 
from  the  top  to  the  bottom.  There  was  an  earthquake  rend- 
ing the  solid  rocks.  Many  graves  were  burst  open,  and  the 
bodies  of  the  saints  which  slumbered  in  them  came  forth  to 
life,  "  and  went  into  the  holy  city,  and  appeared  unto  many." 

These  startling  phenomena  greatly  alarmed  the  crowd  which 
was  gathered  around  the  cross.  "Truly,"  many  of  them  ex- 
claimed, "this  was  the  Son  of  God."  It  was  Friday  after- 
noon. At  the  going-down  of  the  sun,  the  Jewish  sabbath 
would  commence.  Being  the  sabbath  of  the  commencement 
of  the  paschal  feast,  it  was  a  day  of  unusual  solemnity.  The 
Jews,  unwilling  that  the  bodies  should  remain  upon  the  cross 
over  the  sabbath,  applied  to  Pilate  to  hasten  the  lingering 
death  of  the  crucified  by  breaking  their  legs.  The  brutal 
Roman  soldiers  did  this  brutally  to  the  two  men  who  were 
crucified  with  Jesus.  But  when  they  came  to  Jesus,  and 
found  that  he  was  already  dead,  they  did  not  break  his  legs. 
But  one  of  the  soldiers,  to  make  it  certain  that  life  was 
extinct,  thrust  his  spear  deeply  into  his  side.  The  outflow  of 
blood  and  water  indicated  that  the  spear  had  pierced  both  the 
pericardium  and  the  heart. 

It  is  recorded  that  these  thiugs  were  done  that  the  scrip- 
ture might  be  fulfilled,  "  A  bone  of  him  shall  not  be  broken  ;  " 
and,  "  They  shall  look  on  him  whom  they  pierced."  Thus,  also, 
the  executioners  of  Jesus  divided  his  garments  among  them- 
selves, and  drew  lots  for  his  seamless  coat ;  "  that  the  scrip- 
ture might  be  fulfilled  which  saith,  They  parted  my  raiment 
among  them,  and  for  my  vesture  they  did  cast  lots." 

The  evening  drew  nigh.  One  of  the  disciples  of  Jesus,  a 
wealthy  man  by  the  name  of  Joseph,  from  Arimathea,  being 


134  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

a  man  of  high  position,,  went  to  Pilate,  and  begged  the  body 
of  Jesus.  Pilate,  maryelling  that  he  was  so  soon  dead,  granted 
his  request.  Nicodemus  aJso,  the  timid  man  who  visited 
Jesus  by  night,  and  once  during  his  career  ventured  to  speak 
a  cautious  word  in  his  favor,  now  came  by  night,  with  a  hun- 
dred-pound weight  of  myrrh  and  aloes,  to  embalm  the  dead 
body  of  one  whom  he  had  not  the  moral  courage  to  confess 
when  that  living  one  was  struggling  against  his  foes. 

Joseph  took  the  body  of  Jesus  from  the  cross,  wrapped  it  in 
a  linen  robe,  and  deposited  it  in  a  newly-constructed  tomb  of  his 
own  which  he  had  hewn  out  of  a  solid  rock.  The  door  of  the 
tomb  was  closed  by  a  heavy  stone.  Several  women,  the  friends 
of  Jesus,  followed  his  remains  to  the  sepulchre.  This  was 
Friday,  called  the  "preparation-day,"  because,  on  that  day, 
the  Jews  prepared  for  the  solemn  rest  of  the  sabbath. 

The  next  morning,  the  morning  of  the  sabbath,  the  chief 
priests  and  Pharisees,  remembering  that  Jesus  had  declared 
that  he  would  rise  again  on  the  third  day,  held  a  council,  and 
called  upon  Pilate,  requesting  him  to  appoint  a  sure  guard  at 
the  tomb  until  after  the  third  day,  "  lest  his  disciples  come  by 
night,  and  steal  him  away,  and  say  unto  the  people.  He  is 
risen  from  the  dead."  ^ 

Pilate  authorized  them  to  make  the  watch  as  sure  as  they 
could,  employing  a  guard  of  Roman  soldiers  which  had  been 
placed  at  the  command  of  the  Jewish  rulers.  A  detachment 
of  these  soldiers  was  marched  to  the  tomb  to  guard  it,  and  in 
some  way  sealing  the  stone  at  the  door  with  the  public  signet 
of  the  Sanhedrim.  Thus  every  thing  was  done  which  caution 
could  suggest  to  prevent  any  deceit ;  and  these  precautions 
established  beyond  all  possibility  of  doubt  the  reality  of  the 
••resurrection. 

The  night  of  Friday,  the  sabbath,  and  the  night  succeed- 
ing the  sabbath,  passed  in  quiet.  Early  in  the  morning  of 
the  third  day  (which  was  the  first  day  of  the  week),  "  at  the 
rising  of  the  sun,"  Mary  Magdalene,  and  another  Mary,  the 
mother  of  James,  came  to  the  sepulchre.     As  they  approached 

1  Matt,  xxvil.  64 


ARREST,   TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION.  135 

the  closed  door,  there  was  a  violent  earthquake,  which  rolled 
back  the  stone  which  had  closed  the  entrance.  An  angel,  ra- 
diant with  exceeding  beauty  and  clothed  in  celestial  robes,  sat 
upon  the  stone.  The  guard  fainted  in  excessive  terror.  The 
angel  addressed  the  women,  saying,  — 

"  Fear  not  ye ;  for  I  know  that  ye  seek  Jesus,  which  was 
crucified.  He  is  not  here ;  for  he  is  risen,  as  he  said.  Come 
see  the  place  where  the  Lord  lay."^ 

Entering  the  sepulchre,  they  saw  an  angel,  in  the  form  of  a 
young  man,  sitting  on  the  right  side,  also  clothed  in  the  white 
robe  which  is  the  emblematic  garment  of  heaven.  The  angel 
repeated  the  declaration  which  had  just  been  made  by  hia 
companion,  and  added,  — 

"  Go  your  way ;  tell  his  disciples  and  Peter  ^  that  he  is  risen 
from  the  dead.  And,  behold,  he  goeth  before  you  into  Galilee : 
there  shall  ye  see  him.     Lo,  I  have  told  you." 

Greatly  agitated  and  overjoyed,  they  ran  to  communicate  the 
glad  tidings  to  the  disciples.  On  their  way,  Jesus  met  them, 
and  greeted  them  with  the  words,  "All  hail!"  "And  they 
came  and  held  him  by  the  feet,  and  worshipped  him.  Then 
said  Jesus  unto  them,  Be  not  afraid :  go  tell  my  brethren 
that  they  go  into  Galilee,  and  there  shall  they  see  me." 

Some  of  the  guard  also,  as  they  recovered  from  their  swoon, 
hastened  into  the  city  to  report  to  the  chief  priests  what  had 
transpired.  Alarmed  by  these  tidings,  they  held  a  council, 
and  bribed  the  soldiers  to  say  that  they  aU  fell  asleep  in  the 
night ;  and,  while  they  slept,  the  disciples  of  Jesvis  came  and 
stole  the  body.  This  was  the  best  story  they  could  fabricate; 
though  it  was  obvious,  that,  if  they  were  asleep,  they  could  not 
know  that  the  disciples  had  stolen  the  body.  Moreover,  it  was 
death  for  a  Roman  soldier  to  be  found  sleeping  at  his  post. 
The  rulers,  however,  promised  that  they  would  intercede  with 
Pilate,  and  secure  them  from  harm. 

The  women  hastened  to  the  residence  of  John,  who  had  taken 

'  Matt,  xxviii.  6,  6. 

>  This  was  a  kind  rnessage  to  Peter,  who  had  so  recently  denied  his  Lord.  II 
ksdared  him  of  his  forgiveness. 


136  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

home  with  him  the  mother  of  Jesus.  There  they  met  him 
and  Peter,  and  informed  them  of  what  had  happened.  The  two 
disciples  immediately  started  upon  the  run  for  the  sepulchre. 
John  reached  the  sepulchre  first,  and,  looking  in,  saw  the  tomb 
to  be  empty,  and  the  grave-clothes  of  Jesus  lying  in  a  comer. 
He,  however,  did  not  venture  in.  The  impetuous  Peter  soon 
arrived,  and  immediately  entered  the  tomb.  John  followed 
after  him.  The  body  of  Jesus  was  gone :  the  grave-clothes 
alone  remained.     Thoughtfully  they  returned  to  their  home. 

Mary  Magdalene  had  probably  accompanied  John  and  Peter 
to  the  tomb ;  and,  after  they  had  left,  she  remained  near  the 
door,  weeping.  As  she  wept,  she  looked  into  the  sepulchre,  and 
saw  "  two  angels  in  white,  sitting,  the  one  at  the  head,  and  the 
other  at  the  feet,  where  the  body  of  Jesus  had  lain."  One  of 
the  angels  said  to  her,  "  Woman,  why  weepest  thou  ?  '^  She 
replied,  "Because  they  have  taken  away  my  Lord,  and  I  know 
not  where  they  have  laid  him."  It  seems  that  she  still  thought 
that  the  enemies  of  Jesus  had  taken  away  his  remains. 

As  she  said  this,  she  turned  around,  and  saw  a  man  standing 
at  her  side.  It  was  Jesus ;  but  she  knew  him  not.  JesuB 
said  to  her,  "  Woman,  why  weepest  thou  ?  whom  seekest 
thou  ?  "  She,  supposing  him  to  be  the  gardener,  replied,  "  Sir, 
if  thou  hast  borne  him  hence,  teU  me  where  thou  hast  laid 
him,  and  I  wiU  take  him  away."  Jesus  said  to  her  (probably 
then  assuming  his  well-known  voice),  "  Mary ! "  Instantly 
she  recognized  him,  and,  astonished  and  overjoyed,  could  only 
exclaim,  "  Master ! "     Jesus  added,  — 

"  Touch  me  not ;  for  I  am  not  yet  ascended  to  my  Father : 
but  go  to  my  brethren,  and  say  unto  them,  I  ascend  unto  my 
Father  and  your  Father,  and  to  my  God  and  your  God." 

Then  probably  he  disappeared.  Mary  went  into  the  city,  and 
informed  the  bewildered  and  weeping  disciples  of  what  she  had 
seen ;  "  and  they,  when  they  had  heard  that  he  was  alive  and 
had  been  seen  of  her,  believed  not." 

At  a  later  hour  of  that  same  day,  two  of  the  disciples  went 
to  the  village  of  Emmaus,  about  six  or  seven  miles  west  from 
Jerusalem.     As    they  walked    along,    they  were    converging 


ARREST,   TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION-  137 

about  the  wonderful  events  which  were  transpiring.  While 
thus  engaged  in  conversation,  Jesus  joined  them,  but  in  a 
form  which  they  did  not  recognize. 

"  What  manner  of  communications  are  these,"  said  he,  "  that 
ye  have  one  to  another,  as  ye  walk,  and  are  sad  ?  " 

One  of  the  disciples,  whose  name  was  Cleopas,  re- 
plied, "  Art  thou  only  a  stranger  in  Jerusalem,  and  hast  not 
known  the  things  which  are  come  to  pass  there  in  thes« 
days  ?  " 

"  What  things  ?  "  inquired  Jesus. 

"  Concerning  Jesus  of  Nazareth,"  was  the  answer,  *'  which 
was  a  prophet  mighty  in  deed  and  word  before  God  and  all 
the  people ;  and  how  the  chief  priests  and  our  rulers  deliv- 
ered him  to  be  condemned  to  death,  and  have  crucified  him. 
But  we  trusted  that  it  had  been  he  which  should  have  redeemed 
Israel.  And,  besides  all  this,  to-day  is  the  third  day  since 
these  things  were  done.  Tea,  and  certain  women  also  of  our 
company  made  us  astonished,  which  were  early  at  the  sepul- 
chre ;  and,  when  they  found  not  his  body,  they  came,  saying 
that  they  had  also  seen  a  vision  of  angels,  which  said  that  he 
was  alive.  And  certain  of  them  which  were  with  us  went  to 
the  sepulchre,  and  found  it  even  so  as  the  women  had  said ; 
but  him  they  saw  not." 

Jesus  replied,  "  0  fools,'  and  slow  of  heart  to  believe  all 
that  the  prophets  have  spoken  !  Ought  not  Christ  to  have  suf- 
fered these  things,  and  to  enter  into  his  glory  ? 

"And,  beginning  at  Moses  and  all  the  prophets,  he  expounded 
unto  them  in  all  the  scriptures  the  things  concerning  him- 
self. And  they  drew  nigh  unto  the  village  whither  they  went ; 
and  he  made  as  though  he  would  have  gone  farther :  but  they 
constrained  him,  saying.  Abide  with  us ;  for  it  is  toward 
evening,  and  the  day  is  far  spent.  And  he  want  in  to  tarry 
with  them.  And  it  came  to  pass,  as  Le  sat  at  meat  with  them, 
*e  took  bread,  and  blessed  it,  and  brake,  and  gave  to  them. 

*  The  word  translated  "fools  "  does  not  imply  reproach,  as  the  word  does  with  us. 
It  means  that  they  were  thoughtless,  not  attending  to  the  evidence  that  Jesus  VM 
to  die  and  rise  again. 


138  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

And  their  eyes  were  opened,  and  they  knew  him ;  and  he  van- 
ished out  of  their  sight."  ^ 

Greatly  excited  by  this  event,  the  two  disciples  hastened 
back  that  same  evening  to  Jerusalem,  where  they  found  the 
eleven  apostles  assembled  together.  In  the  mean  time,  Jesus 
had  appeared  to  Peter ;  but  when,  and  under  what  circum- 
stances, this  happened,  is  not  recorded.^ 

The  brethren  from  Emmaus  told  the  eleven  apostles  how  Jesus 
had  revealed  himself  to  them  in  the  breaking  of  bread.  The 
apostles  were  in  a  room,  with  the  door  closed,  from  fear  of  the 
Jews.  As  the  disciples  were  giving  their  narrative,  suddenly 
"Jesus  himself  stood  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  saith  unto 
them,  Peace  be  unto  you.  But  they  were  terrified  and  af- 
frighted, and  supposed  that  they  had  seen  a  spirit.  And  he 
said  unto  them,  Why  are  ye  troubled  ?  and  why  do  thoughts  • 
arise  in  your  hearts  ?  Behold  my  hands  and  my  feet,  that  it 
is  I  myself:  handle  me,  and  see;  for  a  spirit  hath  not  flesh 
and  bones,  as  ye  see  me  have. 

"And,  when  he  had  thus  spoken,  he  showed  them  his  hands 
and  his  feet.  And  while  they  yet  believed  not  for  joy,  and 
wondered,  he  said  unto  them.  Have  ye  any  meat  ?  And  they 
gave  him  a  piece  of  a  broiled  fish,  and  of  a  honeycomb ;  and 
he  took  it,  and  did  eat  before  them.  Then  Jesus  said  to 
them  again,  — 

"  Peace  be  unto  you  :  as  my  Father  hath  sent  me,  even  so 
send  I  you.  And,  when  he  had  said  this,  he  breathed  on  them, 
and  said.  Receive  ye  the  Holy  Ghost.  Whose  soever  sins  ye 
remit,  they  are  remitted  unto  them ;  and  whose  soever  sins  ye 
retain,  they  are  retained."* 

After  Jesus  had  retired,  Thomas,  who  had  been  absent  for 
the  few  moments  when  Jesus  was  present,  came  in,  and  upon 
being  told  by  the  apostles,  "  We  have  seen  the  Lord,"  replied 
in  despondency  and  grief,  — 

1  Luke  xxiv.  17-31.  »  See  Luke  xxiv.  34,  and  1  Cor.  XT.  5. 

*  Doubts,  Buspiciona. 

*  The  meaning  of  this  passage  is  supposed  to  be,  that,  In  founding  the  Church, 
the  apostles  should  be  taught  by  the  Holy  Ghost  on  what  terms  and  to  what 
characters  God  would  extend  forgiveness  of  sin. 


ARREST,   TRIAL,  AND  CRUCIFIXION.  139 

"  Except  I  shall  see  in  his  hands  the  print  of  the  nails,  and 
put  my  finger  into  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  thrust  my  hand 
into  his  side,  I  will  not  believe." 

The  week  passed  away,  and  the  first  day  of  another  week 
came.  The  eleven  apostles  were  again  assembled  together. 
Thomas  was  with  them.  As  they  sat  at  meat,  the  doors  being 
shut,  Jesus  came,  and  said,  "  Peace  be  unto  you."  Then, 
turning  to  Thomas,  he  said,  "Eeach  hither  thy  finger,  and 
behold  my  hands ;  and  reach  hither  thy  hand,  and  thrust  it 
into  my  side ;  and  be  not  faithless,  but  believing." 

Thomas  replied,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God  ! " 

Jesus  rejoined,  "  Thomas,  because  thou  hast  seen  me,  thou 
hast  believed :  blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet 
have  believed." 

Again  Jesus  disappeared,  John  writes,  "  Many  other  signs 
truly  did  Jesus  in  the  presence  of  his  disciples,  which  are  not 
written  in  this  book."  ^ 

The  apostles  now,  in  a  body,  "  went  away  into  Galilee,  into 
a  mountain  where  Jesus  had  appointed  them."  This  was  prob- 
ably the  Mount  of  Transfiguration.  Very  brief  is  the  record 
of  what  ensued,  which  is  given  by  Matthew  alone  :  "  And, 
when  they  saw  him,  they  worshipped  him  ;  but  some  doubted. 
And  Jesus  came  and  spake  unto  them,  saying,  — 

"  All  power  is  given  unto  me  in  heaven  and  in  earth.  Go 
ye,  therefore,  and  teach  all  nations,  baptizing  them  in  the  name 
of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  teach- 
ing them  to  observe  all  things  whatsoever  I  have  commanded 
you.  And,  lo,  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the 
world."  2 

Soon  after  this,  Jesus  revealed  himself  to  several  of  his 
disciples  at  the  Sea  of  Tiberias,  under  the  following  circum- 
stances :  — 

"  There  were  together  Simon  Peter,  and  Thomas  called 
Didymus,  and  Nathanael  of  Cana  in  Galilee,  and  the  sons  of 
Zebedee,  and  two  other  of  his  disciples.  Simon  Peter  saith 
unto  them,  I  go  a-fishing.     They  say  unto  him,  We  also  go 

1  John  XX.  30.  s  Matt,  xxviii.  17-20. 


140  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

with  thee.  They  went  forth,  and  entered  into  a  ship  imme- 
diately ;   and  that  night  they  caught  nothing. 

"  But,  when  the  morning  was  now  come,  Jesus  stood  on  the 
shore ;  hut  the  disciples  knew  not  that  it  was  Jesus.  Then 
Jesus  saith  unto  them,  Children,  have  ye  any  meat?  They 
answered  him,  No.  And  he  saith  unto  them,  Cast  the  net  on 
the  right  side  of  the  ship,  and  ye  shall  find.  They  cast,  there- 
fore ;  and  now  they  were  not  ahle  to  draw  it  for  the  multitude 
of  fishes.  Therefore  that  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved  saith  unto 
Peter,  It  is  the  Lord. 

"  Now,  when  Simon  Peter  heard  that  it  was  the  Lord,  he 
girt  his  fisher's  coat  unto  him,  and  did  cast  himself  into  the 
sea.  And  the  other  disciples  came  in  a  little  ship  (for  they 
were  not  far  from  land,  but,  as  it  were,  two  hundred  cubits^). 
As  soon,  then,  as  they  were  come  to  land,  they  saw  a  fire  of 
coals  there,  and  fish  laid  thereon,  and  bread.  Jesus  saith  unto 
them.  Bring  of  the  fish  which  ye  have  now  caught.  Simon 
Peter  went  up,  and  drew  the  net  to  land  full  of  great  fishes,  — 
a  hundred  and  fifty  and  three ;  and  for  all  there  were  so  many, 
yet  was  not  the  net  broken.  Jesus  saith  to  them.  Come  and 
dine.  And  none  of  the  disciples  durst  ask  him,  Who  art 
thou?  knowing  that  it  was  the  Lord.  Jesus  tlien  cometh, 
and  taketh  bread,  and  giveth  them,  and  fish  likewise.  This 
is  now  the  third  time  ^  that  Jesus  showed  himself  to  his  disci- 
ples after  he  was  risen  from  the  dead. 

"So,  when  they  had  dined,  Jesus  saith  to  Simon  Peter, 
Simon,  son  of  Jonas,  lovest  thou  me  more  than  these  ?  * 
He  saith  unto  him.  Yea,  Lord:  thou  knowest  that  I  love 
thee.  He  saith  unto  him,  Feed  my  lambs.  He  saith  to  him 
again  the  second  time,  Simon,  son  of  Jonas,  lovest  thou  me  ? 
He  saith  unto  him,  Yea,  Lord:  thou  knowest  that  I  love 
thee.  He  saith  unto  him,  Feed  my  sheep.  He  saith  unto 
him  the  third  time,  Simon,  son  of  Jonas,  lovest  thou  me? 
Peter  was  grieved  because  he  said  unto  him  the  third  time, 

1  About  a  hundred  and  thirty-two  yards. 

•  The  third  time  to  the  disciples  collectively. 

•  More  than  these  other  apostles.  Peter  had  profegsed,  before  his  fall,  superior 
•ttachment. 


ARREST,    TRIAL,   AND   CRUCIFIXION.  141 

Lovest  thou  me ;  and  lie  said  unto  him,  Lord,  thou  knowest 
all  things :  thou  knowest  that  I  lorve  thee.  Jesus  saith  unto 
him,  Feed  my  sheep." 

Jesus  then  added,  "  Verily,  rerily,  I  say  unto  thee.  When 
thou  wast  young,  thou  girdedst  thyself,  and  walked  whither 
thou  wouldest ;  but,  when  thou  shalt  be  old,  thou  shalt  stretch 
forth  thy  hands,  and  another  shall  gird  thee,  and  carry  thee 
whither  thou  wouldest  not." 

"  This,"  says  John,  "  spake  he,  signifying  by  what  death  he 
should  glorify  God.  And,  when  he  had  spoken  this,  he  saith 
unto  him.  Follow  me.  Then  Peter,  turning  about,  seeth  the 
disciple  whom  Jesus  loved  [John]  following ;  which  also  leaned 
on  his  breast  at  supper,  and  said.  Lord,  which  is  he  that 
betrayeth  thee  ?  Peter,  seeing  him,  saith  to  Jesus,  Lord,  and 
what  shall  this  man  do?  Jesus  saith  unto  him.  If  I  will 
that  he  tarry  till  I  come,  what  is  that  to  thee  ?  Follow 
thou  me." 

John  adds,  "  Then  went  this  saying  abroad  among  the 
brethren,  that  that  disciple  should  not  die :  yet  Jesus  said 
not  unto  him,  He  shall  not  die;  but.  If  I  will  that  he  tarry 
till  I  come,  what  is  that  to  thee  ?  "  ^ 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  interview,  of  which  we  have  so 
brief  a  recital,  Jesus  said,  "These  are  the  words  which  I 
spake  unto  you  while  I  was  yet  with  you,  that  aU  things  must 
be  fulfilled  which  were  written  in  the  law  of  Moses,  and  in 
the  prophets,  and  in  the  psalms,  concerning  me.  Then," 
writes  Luke,  "  opened  he  their  understanding  that  they  might 
understand  the  scriptures,  and  said  unto  them.  Thus  it  is 
written,  and  thus  it  behooved  Christ  to  suffer,  and  to  rise 
from  the  dead  the  third  day ;  and  that  repentance  and  remis- 
sion of  sins  should  be  preached  in  his  name  among  all  nations, 
beginning  at  Jerusalem.  And  ye  are  witnesses  of  these  things. 
And,  behold,  I  send  the  promise  of  my  Father  upon  you ;  but 
tarry  ye  in  the  city  of  Jerusalem  until  ye  be  endued  with 
power  from  on  high."  ^ 

Paul  testifies,  that,  after  this,  Jesds  "  was  seen  of  above  five 

1  John  xxi.  2-23.  »  Luke  xxiv.  44-49. 


142  HISTORY  OF   CHRISTIANITY 

hundred  brethren  at  once."  But  we  have  no  record  of  that 
interview,  or  of  one  which  he  mentions  with  James  alone. 

We  have  but  a  brief  account  of  the  last  and  most  sublime 
of  all  these  interviews.  Jesus  met  the  eleven  in  Jerusalem. 
Their  prejudices  so  tenaciously  clung  to  them,  that  they 
again  asked,  "  Lord,  wilt  thou  at  this  time  restore  again  the 
kingdom  to  Israel?"  Jesus  replied,  "It  is  not  for  you  to 
know  the  times  or  the  seasons  which  the  Father  hath  put  in 
his  own  power ;  but  ye  shall  receive  power  after  that  the  Holy 
Ghost  is  come  upon  you ;  and  ye  shall  be  witnesses  unto  me 
both  in  Jerusalem  and  in  Judaea  and  in  Samaria,  and  unto 
the  uttermost  part  of  the  earth." 

Going  out  from  Jerusalem,  they  walked  together  over  the 
Mount  of  Olives  on  the  road  to  Bethany.  When  near  the 
summit  of  that  sublime  swell  of  land  which  had  ever  been 
one  of  his  favorite  places  of  resort,  Jesus  stopped  on  the  green- 
sward, at  a  point  where  one  could  obtain  an  almost  unbroken 
view  of  the  horizon  and  of  the  overarching  skies,  and,  raising 
his  hands,  pronounced  a  final  earthly  blessing  upon  his  apos- 
tles. 

Then  he  began  slowly  to  ascend  into  the  air.  As  he  rose 
higher  and  higher,  they  all  gazed  upward  upon  him  in  silent 
amazement.  At  length,  far  away  in  the  distance,  a  dim  cloud 
appeared,  perhaps  a  cloud  of  clustering  angels,  which  received 
him  out  of  their  sight.  As  the  apostles  stood  lost  in  wonder, 
still  gazing  into  the  skies,  two  angels,  clothed  in  heaven's 
"  white  apparel,"  stood  by  them.     One  of  them  said,  — 

"  Ye  men  of  Galilee,  why  stand  ye  gazing  up  into  heaven  ? 
This  same  Jesus,  which  is  taken  up  from  you  into  heaven, 
shall  so  come  in  like  manner  as  ye  have  seen  him  go  into 
heaven." 

The  apostles  returned  to  Jerusalem,  there  to  await  "  the 
baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost." 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE    CONVERSION   AND   MINISTRY    OF    SAUL    OF    TARSUS. 


rh«  Baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  —  Boldness  of  the  Apostles.  — Anger  of  the  Ru- 
lers. —  Martyrdom  of  Stephen.  —  Baptism  of  the  Eunuch.  —  Saul's  Journey  to 
Damascus.  —  His  Conversion.  —  The  Disciples  fear  him.  —  His  Escape  from  the 
City.  —  Saul  in  Jerusalem.  —  His  Commission  to  the  Gentiles. — The  Conver- 
sion of  Cornelius.  — The  Vision  of  Peter.  —  Persecution  and  Scattering  of  the 
Disciples.  —  Imprisonment  and  Escape  of  Peter.  —  Saul  and  Barnabas  in  Anti- 
och.  —  Punishment  of  Elymas.  —  Missionary  Tour  to  Cyprus  and  Asia  Minor. 
—  Incidents  and  Results. 


^HE  apostles,  after  the  ascension  of  Jesus,  obedient 
to  the  command  of  their  Lord,  remained  in  Je- 
rusalem, waiting  for  the  fulfilment  of  the  mys- 
terious promise  of  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
To  make  their  number  complete,  they  chose 
Matthias  to  take  the  place  of  Judas.  He  was  a 
disciple  who  had  been  a  witness  of  the  resur- 
rection of  Jesus.  Two  were  selected ;  and  then  the  choice 
between  them  was  decided  by  lot,  the  apostles  praying  to  their 
Lord,  saying,  — 

"  Thou,  Lord,  which  knowest  the  hearts  of  all  men,  show 
whether  of  these  two  thou  hast  chosen." 

Upon  the  day  appointed  for  the  feast;  of  Pentecost,  about 
fifty  days  after  the  crucifixion,  all  the  disciples  in  Jerusalem 
were  assembled  for  prayer.  They  numbered  then  but  about 
a  hundred  and  twenty.  "  Suddenly,"  writes  the  sacred  his- 
torian, "  there  came  a  sound  from  heaven  as  of  a  rushing 
mighty  wind,  and  it  filled  all  the  house  where  they  were  sit- 
ting.    And  there  appeared  unto  them  cloven  tongues  like  as 

143 


144  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

of  fire,  and  it  sat  upon  each  of  them  ;    and  they  began  to 
speak  with  other  tongues  as  the  Spirit  gave  them  utterance." 

This  was  the  baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  disciples, 
though  unlearned  men,  were  now  able  to  preach  fluently  in 
the  languages  of  all  the  many  nations  represented  at  Jerusa- 
lem. Peter,  endowed  with  new  power,  so  showed  the  Jews  the 
terrible  guilt  they  had  incurred  in  crucifying  the  Messiah, 
that  thousands  cried  out,  "  Men  and  brethren,  what  shall  we 
do  ?  "  The  response  which  has  echoed  through  all  the  ages, 
from  that  day  to  this,  was,  "  Repent,  and  be  baptized  every  one 
of  you  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  for  the  remission  of  sins, 
and  ye  shall  receive  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  ^ 

About  three  thousand  converts  were  that  day  added  to  the 
church.  The  days  passed  rapidly  on,  while  the  disciples  were 
earnestly  engaged  in  prayer,  and  in  preaching  in  the  temple 
and  in  the  streets,  occasionally  performing  miracles  of  healing 
in  the  name  of  Jesus.  Wonderful  and  hitherto  unexperienced 
success  attended  their  labors.  Every  day,  converts  were  added 
to  the  church.  In  a  few  days  after  the  commencement  of 
their  ministry,  the  number  of  avowed  disciples  in  Jerusalem 
was  increased  from  a  hundred  and  twenty  to  five  thousand. 

The  timidity  of  Peter  seemed  to  vanish.  He  became  truly 
heroic  in  his  boldness.  His  eloquence,  fearlessness,  and  zeal 
gave  him  prominence  above  the  other  disciples.  Having 
healed  a  lame  man  at  the  gate  of  the  temple  in  the  name  of 
Jesus  Christ  of  Nazareth,  the  excitement  in  the  city  became 
so  great,  that  the  priests  and  the  Sadducees,  with  the  captain  of 
the  temple,  came  upon  Peter  and  John,  arrested  them,  and 
thrust  them  into  prison,  "  being  grieved,"  it  is  written,  "  that 
they  taught  the  people,  and  preached  through  Jesus  the  res- 
urrection of  the  dead." 

The  next  day  a  meeting  of  the  Sanhedrim  was  convened, 
and  the  prisoners  were  assembled  before  that  imposing  court. 
To  the  question,  "  By  what  name,  or  by  what  power,  have  ye 
done  this?"  Peter  replied  to  Annas  and  Caiaphas,  and  the 
other  rulers  who  were  responsible  for  the  crucifijxion  of  Jesus, 


CONVERSION  AND  MINISTRY  OF  SAUL  145 

"Ye  rulers  of  the  people,  and  elders  of  Israel,  be  it  knowii 
unto  you  all,  and  to  all  the  people  of  Israel,  that  by  the  name 
of  Jesus  Christ  of  Nazareth  whom  ye  crucified,  whom  God 
raised  from  the  dead,  eyen  by  him  doth  this  man  stand  here 
before  you  whole." 

He  then  earnestly  preached  to  his  judges  the  gospel  of 
Christ,  saying,  "  There  is  none  other  name  under  heaven  given 
among  men  whereby  we  must  be  saved."  ^ 

The  rulers  were  astonished  at  this  boldness,  perceiving 
**  that  they  were  unlearned  and  ignorant  men ; "  and,  being 
alarmed  by  the  supernatural  events  which  they  could  not  deny, 
they  threatened  them,  commanding  them  "  not  to  speak  at  all 
nor  teach  in  the  name  of  Jesus,"  and  let  them  go.  But  both 
Peter  and  John  answered,  "  Whether  it  be  right  in  the  sight  of 
God  to  hearken  unto  you  more  than  unto  God,  judge  ye ;  for  we 
cannot  bu  -  sp^ak  t^^s  things  which  we  have  seen  and  heard."  * 

Even  in  those  early  days,  there  was  imperfection  in  the 
church.  There  were  five  thousand  members  in  Jerusalem- 
Two  of  these  members  were  found  to  be  unworthy ;  and  the 
imperfections  of  those  two  have  made  more  noise  m  the  world 
than  aU  the  silent  virtues  of  the  other  five  thousand.  So  it 
ever  is.  The  calm,  quiet  devotion  of  myriads  of  Christians  is 
not  recorded.  The  report  of  the  treachery  of  Judas,  the  fall 
of  Peter,  the  perfidy  o^.  Ananias  and  Sapphira,  resound 
through  all  the  centuries. 

Jerusalem  ^yas  shaken  by  the  "  wonders  wrought  among  the 
people  "  by  the  hands  of  the  apostles,  and  by  the  efiect  of  their 
teaching.  "  Believers  were  the  more  added  to  the  Lord,  mul  • 
titudes  both  of  men  and  women."  The  miraculous  powsrs 
conferred  upon  the  apostles  seemed  to  be  fiiUy  equal  to  those 
exercised  by  Jesus.  "  They  brought  forth  the  sick  into  the 
streets,  and  laid  them  on  beds  and  couches,  that  at  least  th^ 
shadow  of  Peter  passing  by  might  overshadow  some  of  them. 
There  came  also  a  multitude  out  of  the  cities  round  about  unt-o 
Jerusalem,  bringing  sick  folks,  and  them  which  were  vexed 
with  unclean  spirits  ;  and  they  were  healed  every  one."  * 

»  Acts  iv.  12.  •  Acts  iv.  19,  :iO.  »  Acts  v.  15.  t«. 

10 


146  HISTORY  OF  CHEISTIANITT. 

Caiaphas  and  the  rulers  " were  filled  with  indigration." 
Again  they  seized  the  apostles,  and  imprisoned  them ;  hut 
the  "angel  of  the  Lord"  opened  their  prison-doors,  and  the 
next  morning  they  were  found  again  teaching  excited  crowds 
in  the  temple.  A  general  council  of  the  Sanhedrim  was  con- 
vened. They  ordered  the  officers  again  to  arrest  the  apostles. 
They  did  so,  "  but  without  violence ;  for  they  feared  lest  they 
should  he  stoned."  The  high  priest,  much  exasperated,  said  to 
them,  "  Did  we  not  straitly  command  you  that  ye  should  not 
teach  in  this  name  ?  and,  behold,  ye  have  filled  Jerusalem 
with  yoar  doctrine,  t-nd  intend  to  bring  this  man's  blood  upon 
us." 

Peter  replied  in  tha  bola  and  stinging  words,  ''  We  ought  to 
obey  God  rathei  ',han  jaan.  The  God  of  our  fathers  raised 
up  Jesus,  whom  ye  slew  and  hanged  on  a  tree.  Him  hath 
God  exalted  with  his  right  hand  to  be  a  Prince  and  a  Saviour, 
for  to  give  repentance  to  Israel,  and  forgiveness  of  sins.  And 
we  are  his  witnesses  of  these  things ;  and  so  is  also  the  Holy 
Ghost,  who^  God  hath  given  to  them  that  obey  him."^ 

After  muc'i  debat;,  the  court  ordered  the  apostlee  to  be 
scourged,  and  then  discharged.  They  endured  the  terrible 
punishment,  "rejoicing  that  they  were  permitted  to  suffer 
shame  for  his  name."  But  there  was  no  power  in  the  blood- 
stained lash  to  silence  them.  "  Daily  in  the  temple,  and  in 
every  house,  they  ceased  not  to  teach  and  preach  Jesus 
Christ." 

The  wants  of  the  rapidly-increasing  Christian  community 
soon  became  so  extended,  that  seven  deacons  were  chosen  to 
attend  to  the  secular  affairs  of  the  church,  that  the  apostles 
might  give  themselves  "  continually  to  prayer,  and  to  the  minis- 
try of  the  word." 

One  of  these  seven,  Stephen,  "  full  of  faith  and  power,  did 
great  wonders  and  miracles  among  the  people."  He  was 
arrested,  and  false  witnesses  were  bribed  to  accuse  him.  "  We 
have  heard  him  say,"  they  testified,  "  that  this  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth shall  change  the  customs  which  Moses  delivered  us." 
>  Acts  V.  29-:^v 


CONVERSION  AND  MINISTRY  OF  SAUL.  147 

Stephen  was  permitted  to  speak  in  his  defence.  He  began 
with  the  call  of  Abraham,  and  gave  a  rapid  sketch  of  the 
great  events  in  their  national  existence,  selecting  those  points 
which  were  most  available  in  their  bearing  upon  his  cause. 
He  showed  how  the  faith  of  Abraham  and  the  piety  of  Jo- 
seph secured  God's  blessing.  He  probably  somewhat  exas- 
perated them  when  he  showed  that  the  law  of  Moses  did  not 
restrain  their  fathers  from,  at  times,  lapsing  into  the  grossest 
idolatry:  and  when,  in  continuation  of  his  argument,  that  ex- 
ternal observances  alone  did  not  constitute  piety,  he  said,  "The 
Most  Pligh  d;velleth  not  in  temples  made  with  hands,"  he 
probably  was  assailed  by  some  rude  interruption ;  for,  em- 
boldened by  inspiration,  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  — 

"  Ye  stiff-necked  and  uncircumcised  in  heart  and  ears,  ye  do 
always  resist  the  Holy  Ghost :  as  your  fathers  did,  so  do  ye. 
Which  of  the  prophets  have  not  your  fathers  persecuted  ? 
And  they  have  slain  them  which  showed  before  of  the  coming 
of  the  Just  One,  of  whom  ye  have  been  now  the  betrayers 
and  murderers  ;  who  have  received  the  law  by  tlie  disposition 
of  angels,  and  have  not  kept  it."  ^ 

This  plain  speech  so  exasperated  the  rulers,  that  **  they  were 
cut  to  the  heart,  and  they  gnashed  upon  him  with  their  teeth." 
Stephen  knew  that  death  was  his  doom  from  those  unjust 
and  inexorable  judges.  "But  he,  being  full  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  looked  up  steadfastly  into  heaven,  and  saw  the  glory 
of  God,  and  Jesus  stancling  on  the  right  hand  of  God;  and 
said.  Behold,  I  see  the  heavens  opened,  and  the  Son  of  man 
standing  on  the  right  hand  of  God." 

There  was  no  crime  in  all  this,  no  violation  of  the  law. 
To  have  pronounced  any  legal  condemnation  would  have  been 
absurd.  The  only  resource  left  was  mob  violence.  These 
proud  and  infamous  men,  the  dignitaries  of  the  Sanhedrim, 
"  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  and  stopped  their  ears,  and  ran  upon 
him  with  one  accord,  and  cast  him  out  of  the  city,  and  stoned 
him;  and  the  witnesses  laid  down  their  clothes  at  a  young 
man'c  feet  whose  name  was  Saul. 

Acts  vii.51-5a. 


148  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

"  And  they  stoned  Stephen,  calling  upon  God,  and  saying, 
Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit.  And  he  kneeled  down,  ancJ 
cried  with  a  loud  voice.  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to  their  charge. 
And  Saul  was  consenting  unto  his  death." ' 

Tliis  is  the  first  mention  which  is  made  of  Saul,  the  most 
remarkable  man  whose  name  is  recorded  in  sacred  or  profane 
annals. 

Saul  was  born  in  the  city  of  Tarsus,  in  Asia  Minor.  It  was 
"  no  mean  city,"  the  capital  of  the  Roman  province  of  Cilicia, 
and  situated  upon  the  River  Cadmus,  a  few  miles  from  its 
entrance  into  the  Mediterranean  Sea.  The  parents  of  Saul 
^ere  wealthy.  It  was  a  custom  of  the  times,  that  every  child, 
no  matter  hew  opulent  his  parents,  should  be  taught  some 
trade.  Saul  learned  that  of  a  tent-maker.  We  know  almost 
nothing  of  his  childhood  and  early  youth.  His  parents  belonged 
to  the  sect  of  Pharisees,  the  most  punctilious  observers  of  the 
rites  of  the  Jewish  religion.  His  vernacular  language  was 
probably  Greek,  though  he  undoubtedly  was  thoroughly  in- 
structed in  Hebrew.  As  it  is  said  that  he  was  "  brought  up  at 
the  feet  of  Gamaliel,"  and  as  it  was  the  custom  of  the  Jews  to 
send  their  children,  between  the  ages  of  ten  and  fourteen,  to 
be  instructed  in  the  law,  it  is  supposed,  that,  at  that  early 
age,  Saul  was  sent  to  Gamaliel,  the  distinguished  teacher  in 
Jerusalem. 

Saul,  at  the  time  of  the  martyrdom  of  Stephen,  though  a 
young  man,  had  manifestly  attained  both  maturity  and  iaflu- 
ence.  Ee  was  probably  a  member  of  the  Sanhedrim,  as  he 
states,  that,  when  the  Christians  were  put  to  death,  he  gave  his 
vote  against  them.^  His  commanding  influence  is  also  mani- 
fest from  the  declaration,  "  Many  of  the  saints  did  I  shut  up 
in  prison,  having  received  authority  from  the  chief  priests. 
And  I  punished  them  oft  in  every  synagogue,  and  compelled 
them  to  blaspheme ;  and,  being  exceedingly  mad  against  them, 
I  persecuted  them  even  unto  strange  cities."  ^ 

After  the  martyrdom  of  Stephen,  the  persecution  r^ged  in 
Jerusalem  with  ever-increasing  violence.     It  is  recorded,  "  Aa 

*  Acts  Yii.  57-60.  «  Acts  xxvi.  10.  »  Acts  xxvl.  IJ. 


CONVERSION  AND  MINISTRY  OF  SAUL.  149 

'or  Saul,  ke  made  havoc  of  the  church,  entering  into  every 
house,  and,  haling  men  and  women,  committed  them  to 
prison."  ^  This  cruel  persecution  in  Jerusalem  scattered  the 
Christians  far  and  wide.  Philip  went  to  Samaria,  and  in  one 
of  thrf  principal  cities  "preached  Christ  unto  them."  His 
preaching  was  attended  with  wonderful  success.  Many  con- 
verts were  made,  "  and  there  was  great  joy  in  that  city." 

The  tidings  of  the  success  attending  the  preaching  of  the 
gospel  in  Samaria  reaching  Jerusalem,  Peter  and  John  were 
commissioned  hy  those  of  the  apostles  who  remained  in  the 
city  to  repair  immediately  to  that  province.  The  same  mirac- 
ulous testimony  accompanied  their  preaching  ?s  at  the  day 
of  Pentecost.  After  a  very  successful  tour,  having  "  preached 
the  gospel  in  many  villages  of  the  Samaritans,"  they  returned 
to  Jerusalem. 

A  very  interesting  incident  is  here  recorded  respecting 
Philip.  By  divine  direction  he  was  journeying  to  Gaza,  the 
extreme  southern  city  of  Palestine.  Gaza  was  on  the  direct 
route  to  Egypt.  An  officer  of  high  rank,  connected  with  the 
household  of  Candace,  queen  of  Egypt,  had  heen  up  to 
Jerusalem,  and  was  returning  to  his  native  country  in  his 
chariot.  He  was  a  devout  man,  and,  as  he  rode  along,  was 
reading  the  scriptures.  It  so  chanced  that  he  had  opened  to 
the  fifty-third  chapter  of  Isaiah,  and  was  at  that  moment 
reading  the  seventh  and  eighth  verses :  — 

"  He  was  led  as  a  sheep  to  the  slaughter ;  and  like  a  lamb 
dumb  before  his  shearer,  so  opened  he  not  his  mouth.  In  his 
humiliation  hia  judgment  was  taken  away:  and  who  shall 
declare  his  generation  ?  for  his  life  is  taken  from  the  earth." 

Just  then,  the  eunuch,  overtaking  Philip,  invited  him  to  a 
seat  in  the  chariot  by  his  side.  Then,  reverting  to  the  scrip- 
ture which  he  was  reading,  he  inquired  of  Philip,  "I  pray 
thee,  of  whom  speaketh  the  prophet  this  ?  of  himself,  or  of 
some  other  man  ?  " 

"Then  Philip  began  at  the  same  scripture,  and  preached 
unto  him  Jesus."     The  eunuch,  convinced  that  Jesus  was  the 

1  Acts  vUl.  3. 


150  HISTORY  OF  GHRISTIANITT. 

Messiah,  accepted  him  as  his  Saviour,  became  his  disciple,  and 
received  the  ordinance  of  Christian  baptism,  not  as  a  membei 
of  any  local  church,  but  of  the  one  universal  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ.  The  scriptural  account  of  this  event  is  beautiful  in 
its  simplicity :  — 

"  And,  as  they  went  on  uheir  way,  they  came  unto  a  certain 
water.  And  the  eunuch  said.  See,  here  is  water :  what  doth 
hinder  me  to  be  baptized  ?  And  Philip  said,  If  thou  believest 
with  all  thy  heart,  thou  mayest ;  and  he  answered  and  said, 
I  believe  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God.  And  h? 
commanded  the  chariot  to  stand  still :  and  they  went  down  both 
into  the  water,  both  Philip  and  the  eunuch ;  and  he  baptized 
him.  And,  when  they  were  come  up  out  of  the  water,  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord  caught  away  Philip,  that  the  eunuch  saw 
him  no  more  ;  and  he  went  on  his  way  rejoicing." 

Philip  continued  his  tour,  preaching  the  gospel  in  all  the 
principal  cities  of  Judaea  and  Samaria,  until  he  reached  Caesa- 
rea,  on  the  coast  of  the  Mediterranean.  We  are  not  informed 
what  success  attended  his  preaching. 

Luke,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  the  account  of  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles,  writes,  — 

"  And  Saul,  yet  breathing  out  threatenings  and  slaughter 
against  the  disciples  of  the  Lord,  went  unto  the  high  priest, 
and  desired  of  him  letters  to  Damascus  to  the  synagogues, 
that  if  he  found  any  of  this  way,  whether  they  were  men  or 
women,  he  might  bring  them  bound  unto  Jerusalem."  ^ 

Damascus  is  supposed  to  be  the  oldest  city  in  the  world. 
Josephus  says  that  it  flourished  before  the  days  of  Abraham. 
Surviving  the  ruins  of  Babylon  and  of  Tyre,  it  was,  in  the  days 
of  Isaiah,  called  "the  head  of  Syria."  In  the  time  of  the 
apostles  it  was  one  of  the  most  populous,  opulent,  and  beauti- 
ful cities  on  the  globe.  It  was  situated  amidst  a  paradise  of 
luxuriance,  and  was  abundantly  watered  by  crystal  streams 
flowing  from  the  sides  of  Mount  Lebanon. 

The  distance  between  Jerusalem  and  Damascus  was  one 
hundred  and  thirty-six  miles.     In  the  slow  mode  of  travelling 

I  Acts  ix.  1,  2. 


CONVERSION  AND  MINISTRY  OF  SAUL.  151 

in  those  times  by  caravans,  it  occupied  six  days.  Jesus  never 
visited  the  city,  it  being  farther  north  than  he  journeyed  in 
any  of  his  tours  ;  but  his  disciples,  in  their  dispersion,  had 
preached  the  gospel  in  the  city,  and  many  converts  had  been 
gathered  there.  It  was  mid-day  as  Saul  and  his  fellow-travel- 
lers drew  near  the  gates  of  Damascus.  At  noon,  beneath  the 
burning  sun  of  the  iCast,  ah  nature  seemed  in  repose.  The 
voices  of  the  birds  were  hushed,  the  hum  of  industry  ceased, 
and  silence  reigned.  The  event  which  ensued,  certainly  one 
of  the  most  momentous  in  the  history  of  the  world,  and 
fraught  with  consequences  of  greater  magnitude  than  any 
human  imagination  can  conceive,  cannot  be  better  narrated 
than  in  the  language  of  Saul  himself :  — 

"  And  it  came  to  pass,  as  I  made  my  journey,  and  was  come 
nigh  unto  Damascus,  about  noon,  suddenly  there  shone  from 
heaven  a  great  light  round  about  me.  And  I  fell  unto  ths 
ground,  and  heard  a  voice  saying  unto  me,  Saul,  Saul,  why 
persecutest  thou  me  ?  And  I  answered,  Who  art  thou,  Lord  .'' 
and  he  said  unto  me,  I  am  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  whom  thoa 
persecutest.  And  they  that  were  with  me  saw  indeed  the 
light,  and  were  afraid ;  but  they  heard  not  the  voice  of  him 
that  spake  to  me.  And  I  said.  What  shall  I  do,  Lord  ?  and 
the  Lord  said  unto  me,  Arise,  go  into  Damascus,  and  there  it 
shall  be  told  thee  of  all  things  which  are  appointed  for  thee 
to  do.  And  when  I  could  not  see  for  the  glory  of  that  light, 
being  led  by  the  hand  of  them  that  were  with  me,  I  came  into 
Damascus."  ^ 

In  the  centre  of  Damascus  there  was  a  street,  still  existing, 
three  miles  long,  called  Straight.  Saul,  whose  eyes  were  utter- 
ly blinded  by  the  brilliancy  of  the  vision,  was  led  by  the  hand 
into  this  street,  to  the  house  of  a  man  by  the  name  of  Judas. 
He  remained  for  three  days  in  darkness,  surrendered  to  reflec- 
tion. The  emotions  which  agitated  him  ii.  view  of  his  past 
persecution  of  the  Chiistians,  and  of  the  conclusive  evidence 
be  now  had  of  the  Messiahship  of  Jesus,  were  so  painful  and 

*  Acti  xxii.  6-12.  In  the  account  which  Luke  gives  of  thiB  ertut  (Aot*  it  l-l), 
lome  incid  nts  are  recorded  which  Saul  omits. 


152  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

intense,  that,  during  all  this  time,  he  could  neither  eac  nor 
drink. 

There  was  in  Damascus  a  disciple  of  Jesus  by  the  name  of 
Ananias,  a  devout  man,  of  such  irreproachable  integrity  of 
character,  that  all  men  were  constrained  to  acknowledge  his 
virtues. 

To  him  the  Lord  J^^euc  appeared  in  a  vision,  and  said, 
**  Arise,  and  go  into  the  ctreet  which  is  called  Straight,  and 
.nrjuire  in  the  house  of  Judas  for  one  called  Saul  of  Tarsus  ; 
for,  behold,  he  prayeth,  and  hath  seen  in  a  vision  a  man  named 
Ananias  coming  in,  and  putting  his  hand  on  him,  that  he 
might  receive  his  sight." 

Ananias  replied,  "  Lord,  I  have  heard  by  many  of  this  man, 
how  much  evil  he  hath  done  to  thy  saints  at  Jerusalem  ;  and 
here  he  hath  authority  from  the  chief  priests  to  bind  all  that 
call  on  thy  name/' 

Jesus  replied,  "  Go  thy  way  ;  for  he  is  a  chosen  vessel  unto 
me,  to  bear  my  name  before  the  Gentiles  and  kings  and  the 
children  of  Israel :  for  I  wiU  show  him  how  great  things  he 
must  sulfer  for  my  name's  sake." 

Ananias  repaired  immediately  to  the  house  of  Judas,  and, 
placing  his  hands  in  divin3  benediction  upon  the  head  of  Saul, 
said,  "  Brother  Saul,  the  Lord  Jesus,  that  appeared  unto  thee 
in  the  way  as  thou  earnest,  hath  sent  me,  that  thou  mightest 
receive  thy  sight,  and  be  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost."  ^ 

The  scales  fell  from  the  eyes  of  Saul.  His  sight  was  restored. 
He  arose  refreshed  and  strengthened,  and  immediately  received 
the  rite  of  baptism.  Saul,  having  thus  become  a  disciple  of 
Jesus,  and,  by  baptism,  a  member  of  his  visible  Church,  imme- 
diately made  his  faith  conspicuous  by  his  self-sacrificing  and 
energetic  works.  In  the  modest  account  which  he  subse- 
quently gave  of  his  conversion  to  King  Agrippa,  he  said,  — 

"  Whereupon,  0  King  Agrippa !  I  was  not  disobedient  unto 
the  heavenly  vision ;  but  showed  first  unto  them  of  Damascus, 
and  at  Jerusalem,  and  throughout  aU  the  coasts  of  Judaea,  and 
then  to  the  Gentiles,  that  they  should  repent  and  turn  to  God, 
and  do  works  jaset  for  repentance."  ^ 

*■  Acts  ix.  10.  '  Acts  xxvL  10.  SO. 


CONVERSION  AND  MINISTRY  OF  SAUL.  153 

As  Saul  was  seen  day  after  day,  in  the  Jewish  synagogue* 
cf  Damascus,  proclaiming  with  all  his  fervid  powers  of  elo- 
q.i.?nce  that  the  crucified  Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  the  true  Mes- 
siah, all  that  heard  him  were  amazed.  They  said  one  to  an- 
other, — 

"  Is  not  this  he  that  destroyed  them  which  called  on  this 
name  io  Jerusalem,  and  came  hither  for  that  intent,  that  he 
might  1  ring  them  bound  uuto  the  chief  priests  ?  " 

But  th&  zeal  of  Saul  daily  increased  in  fervor ;  and  he  "  con- 
founded the  Jews  which  dwelt  at  Damascus,  proving  that  this 
is  very  Christ."  ^  The  Jews,  not  being  able  to  reply  to  his 
arguments,  resorted,  as  usual,  to  mob  violence  to  oilence  him. 
Jesus,  in  his  parting  coonsels  to  his  disciples,  had  directed 
them,  when  persecuted  in  one  city,  to  escape  to  another.  The 
Jews  entered  into  a  conspiracy  to  kill  Saul.  They  guarded 
tie  gates  that  he  might  not  escape  from  the  city,  and  engaged 
assassins  to  put  him  'o  death. 

The  thick  and  massive  walls  of  Damascus,  rising  about 
thirty  feet  high,  afforded  a  site  for  quite  a  number  of  small 
dwellings.  From  the  windows  of  one  of  these  houses,  in  a 
dark  night,  the  disciples  lowered  Saul  down,  outside  the  walls, 
in  a  basket,  by  a  rope.  There  this  heroic  young  man  stood  alone 
at  midnight,  with  a  career  of  fearful  suffering  clearly  unveiled 
before  him ;  and  yet  his  love  for  Jesus,  his  Lord  and  Master, 
was  such,  that  he  counted  it  all  joy  that  he  was  permitted  to 
suffer  shame  in  his  name. 

From  Damascus,  Saul  directed  his  steps  eastward  into  Ara- 
bia. How  far  he  went,  and  what  success  he  enjoyed  in  preach- 
ing to  the  Jews  scattered  throughout  those  regions,  are  not 
recorded.  It  is  not  known  how  many  weeks  or  months  were 
occupied  upon  this  missionary  tour.  Several  years  after,  allud- 
ing to  this  event  in  a  letter  which  he  wrote  to  the  Galatians, 
he  says,  "  I  went  into  Arabia,  and  returned  again  unto  Damas- 
cus.    Then,  after  three  years,  I  went  up  to  Jerusalem."  ^ 

During  '  11  these  three  years,  the  sacred  writers  are  silent 
respecting  th-^  adventures  of  Saul.     At  the  end  of  this  time, 

*  Acta  ix.  22.  a  Gal.  i.  17,  18. 


154  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

he  weut  up  to  Jerusalem.  It  is  an  interesting  indication  of 
the  slight  intercourse  there  was  between  distant  cities  at  that 
time,  when  but  few  could  write,  and  there  were  no  postal  facili- 
ties, that  the  disciples  at  Jerusalem  had  not  even  heard  of  to.e 
conversion  of  Saul.  When  he  arrived  in  Jerusalem,  and  wished 
to  throw  himself  into  the  arms  of  the  friends  of  Jesus,  it  i." 
written,  "  They  were  all  afraid  of  him,  and  believed  not  that 
he  was  a  disciple."  ^ 

But  Barnabas,  one  of  the  disciples  in  Jerusalem,  a  man  of 
wealth,  and  one  who  had  already  acquired  reputation  for  his 
benevolence,^  had  in  some  way  become  acquainted  with  the 
conversion  of  Saul,  and  his  zeal  in  the  service  of  Jesus.  He 
took  Saul  by  the  hand ;  led  him  to  the  apostles  Peter  and  James, 
who  still  remained  in  Jerusalem,'  and  declared  unto  them  how 
the  Lord  Jesus  had  appeared  to  Saul  an  the  way,  had  spoken 
to  him,  and  how  Saul  had  preachea  boldly  in  Damascus  in  the 
name  of  Jesus. 

They  then  received  Saul  cordially,  ana  he  commenced 
preaching  "  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus "  with  all  his 
wonted  energy  in  the  synagogues  of  Jerusalem.  Those  who 
had  crucified  Jesus,  and  who  remembered  that  Saul  had  co- 
operated with  them  in  their  persecution  of  his  disciples,  were 
roused  to  intensity  of  rage.  A  conspiracy  was  formed,  as  in 
Damascus,  to  kill  him. 

Saul  had  been  in  Jerusalem  but  fifteen  days,  taking  lodg- 
ings in  the  house  of  Peter,  when  the  brethren  informed  him 
that  he  must  immediately  escape  from  Jerusalem,  or  he  would 
lose  his  life.  A  stranger  to  fear,  at  first  he  was  unwilling  to 
go.  But  the  Lord  Jesus  appeared  to  Saul  as  he  was  praying 
in  the  temple,  and  said  to  him,  — 

"  Make  haste,  and  get  thee  quickly  out  of  Jerusalem ;  for 
they  will  not  receive  thy  testimony  concerning  me." 

Saul  replied,  "  Lord,  they  know  that  I  imprisoned  and  beat 
in  every  synagogue  them  that  believed  on  thee ;  and,  when 
the  blood  of  thy  martyr  Stephen  was  shed,  I  also  was  stand- 
ing by,  and  consenting  unto  his  death,  and  kept  the  raiment 
of  them  that  slew  him." 

'  Acts  Ix.  2«.  2  Acta  iv.  36.  »  Qal.  i.  18, 


CONVERSION  AND  MINISTRY  OF  SAUL.  155 

Jesus  replied,  "  Depart ;  for  I  will  send  thee  far  hence  unto 
tile  Gentiles."  ^  Thus  instructed,  Saul,  aided  by  the  disciples, 
escaped  from  Jerusalem,  and  proceeding  to  Caesarea,  on  the 
sea-coast,  a  distance  of  about  sixty  miles,  took  ship  for  Tarsus, 
his  native  place. 

For  a  short  time  now,  persecution  ceased.  The  churches 
established  in  all  the  leading  cities  of  Palestine  had  rest. 
The  disciples  preached  the  gospel  far  and  wide  with  great  suc- 
cess. In  the  language  of  the  sacred  annalist,  the  churches 
"  were  edified,  and,  walking  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  and  the 
comfort  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  were  multiplied." 

At  this  time,  Peter  set  out  on  a  missionary  tour  towards  the 
sea-coast,  preaching  in  all  the  towns  and  villages  through  which 
he  passed.  Arriving  at  Lydda,  a  small  town  about  five  miles 
from  Joppa,  which  was  on  the  Mediterranean  shore,  he  found 
a  man,  by  the  name  of  JEneas,  who  had  been  confined  to  his 
bed  for  eight  years.  Peter  healed  him,  saying,  "  ^neas,  Jesus 
Jhrist  maketh  thee  whole."  This  miracle  gave  such  force  to 
the  ardent  preaching  of  Peter,  that,  in  the  language  of  the 
inspired  penman,  ''  all  that  dwelt  at  Lydda  and  Saron  turned 
to  the  Lord."  =^ 

At  Joppa  there  vas  a  disciple,  whose  name  was  Dorcas, 
greatly  beloved  for  her  charities.  She  was  taken  sick,  and 
was  laid  out  to  be  buried.  It  seems  that  the  disciples  there, 
hearing  of  the  miraculous  cure  of  ^neas,  had  faith  that  Peter 
could  raise  their  sister  from  death's  slumber.  They  sent  two 
messengers  to  him  to  urge  his  hastening  to  Joppa.  Upon  his 
arrival,  he  was  conducted  immediately  to  the  residence  of 
Dorcas.  The  chamber  in  which  the  dead  body  lay  was  filled 
with  mourners,  many  of  them  weeping,  and  showing  the  coats 
and  garments  which  Dorcas  liad  bestowed  upon  them.  Peter 
kneeled  down  by  the  bedside  and  prayed,  and  then  called  upon 
the  dead  to  arise.  Dorcas  opened  her  eyes,  and  sat  up.  Peter 
gave  her  his  hand,  led  her  out  of  the  chamber,  and  presented 
her  alive  and  well  to  Jier  friends. 

»  Acts  xxii.  18-21. 

*  Saron  waa  the  well-inhabited  plain  which  extended  from  Lydda  to  Joppa 
.  ActB  ix.  36). 


156  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

This  miracle,  so  astounding,  was  reported  througliout  the 
city.  Peter  remained  there  several  days,  preaching  the  gos- 
pel, and  residing  with  one  Simon,  a  tanner.  His  success  'ji 
indicated  in  the  declaration,  that  "  many  believed  in  the  Lord." 

About  thirty  miles  north  of  Joppa,  upon  the  seashore,  waa 
the  important  seaport  of  Caesarea.  A  Roman  force  of  soldiers 
was  established  there ;  and  a  man  by  the  name  of  Cornelius 
was  the  captain  of  an  Italian  band  of  a  hundred  men,  whi',Ii 
gave  him  the  title  of  a  centurion.  He  was  a  devout  man,  wHo 
had  abandoned  Eoman  paganism,  and  had  become  a  worship- 
per of  the  true  God.  His  noble  character  is  depicted  in  the 
words,  "  He  gave  much  alms  to  the  people,  and  prayed  to  God 
alway." 

One  day,  which,  it  seems,  he  had  devoted  to  fasting  and 
prayer,  as  he  was  upon  his  knees,  at  three  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon,  an  angel  of  God  appeared  to  him,  and  said,  — 

"  Cornelius,  thy  prayers  and  thine  alms  are  come  up  for  «& 
memorial  before  God.  Now  send  men  to  Joppa,  and  call  for 
one  Simon,  whose  surname  is  Peter :  he  lodgeth  with  one 
Simon,  a  tanner,  whose  house  is  by  the  seaside.  He  shall  teJi 
thee  what  thou  oughtest  to  do." 

Immediately  Cornelius  despatched  two  men  to  Joppa  upon 
this  mission.  As,  about  noon  the  next  day,  they  were  approach- 
ing the  city,  Peter  was  upon  the  flat  roof  of  the  house,  the 
usual  place  of  retirement,  engaged  in  prayer.  In  a  vision  he 
saw  a  sheet  let  down  from  heaven  by  its  four  corners,  contain- 
ing animals  of  all  kinds, — those  reputed  clean,  and  those  which 
the  ceremonial  law  pronounced  uncleaa.  A  voice  came  to  him, 
saying,  — 

"  Rise,  Peter ;  kill  and  eat." 

But  Peter  replied,  "  Not  so,  Lord ;  for  I  have  never  eaten 
any  thing  that  is  common  or  unclean." 

The  voice  rejoined,  "  What  God  hath  cleansed,  that  call  not 
thou  common." 

This  vision  was  repeated  three  times  in  immediate  succession, 
vVhile  Peter  was  seated  upon  the  house-top,  pondering  its  sig 
nificance,  the  messengers  commissioned  by  Cornelius  arrived, 


CONVERSION  AND  MINISTRY  OF  SAUL.  157 

and  stood  before  the  gate  of  the  house,  inquiring  if  Peter 
/'jdged  thero. 

The  spirit  tht^n  said  to  Peter,  "Behold,  three  men  seek  thee. 
Arise,  therefore,  and  get  thee  down,  and  go  with  them,  doubt- 
ing nothing  ;  for  I  have  sent  them."  ^ 

Peter  immediately  descended,  met  the  messengers,  and  re- 
ceived from  them  the  following  communication  :  "  Cornelius 
the  centurion,  s.  just  man,  and  one  that  feareth  God,  and  of 
good  report  among  all  the  nation  of  the  Jews,  was  warned 
from  God  by  a  holy  angel  to  send  for  thee  into  his  house,  and 
to  hear  words  of  thee." 

Peter  invited  the  men  in,  entertained  them  for  the  night, 
and  the  nezt  day  accompanied  them  to  Joppa.  The  vision  had 
taught  him,  that,  in  the  eye  of  God,  there  was  no  distinction 
between  the  ciean  %.nd  the  unclean  in  the  human  family ;  that 
tne  barrier  between  the  Jew  and  the  Gentile  was  now  broken 
down ;  and  that  the  gospel  of  Jesus  was  now  to  be  preached  to 
aU  rations,  tribes,  and  families  alike.  The  centurion  received 
Peter  with  profound  reverence,  regarding  him  as  a  divinely- 
appointed  ambassador  to  him.  Several  of  the  friends  of  Cor- 
nelius, probably  all  Greeks  or  Romans  who  had  abandoned 
idolatry,  were  assembled  in  his  house  to  meet  Peter.  The 
zealous  and  bold  apostle,  addressing  them,  said,  — 

"  Ye  know  how  that  it  is  an  unlawful  thing  for  a  man  that 
is  a  Jew  to  keep  company,  or  ccme  unto  one  of  another  nation ; 
but  God  hath  showed  me  that  I  should  not  call  any  man  com- 
mon or  unclean.  Therefore  came  I,  without  gainsaying,  as 
soon  as  I  was  sent  for.  I  ask,  therefore,  for  what  intent  ye 
have  sent  for  m3." 

Cornelius  informed  Peter  of  his  vision,  and  of  the  direction 
given  him  by  the  angel  to  send  for  Peter,  and  receive  instruc- 
tion from  his  lips.  '*•' Now,  therefore,"  said  he  in  conclusion, 
"we  are  all  here  present  before  God  to  hear  all  things  that 
ari  commanded  thee  of  God." 

We  have  but  a  brief  abstract  of  what  Peter  said  in  reply, 
bat  enough  to  show  us,  without  any  doubt,  what  was  the  gos- 
pel which  he  preached  to  them. 

•  Acta  X.  20 


158  UISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

"  Of  a  truth,"  said  he,  "  I  perceive  that  God  is  no  respecter 
of  persons ;  but,  in  every  nation,  he  that  feareth  him,  and  work- 
eth  righteousness,  is  accepted  with  him." 

After  brief  reference  to  Jesus  Christ,  "  Lord  of  all,"  to  his 
teachings,  his  miracles,  his  crucifixion,  and  his  resurrection,  he 
concluded  by  saying,  "  And  he  commanded  us  to  preach  unto 
the  people,  and  to  testify  that  it  is  he  which  was  ordained  of 
God  to  be  the  Judge  of  quick  and  dead.^  To  him  give  all  the 
prophets  witness,  that,  through  his  name,  whosoever  believeth 
in  him  shall  receive  remission  of  sins."  ^ 

Following  these  words  of  Peter,  the  miraculous  influences 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  fell  upon  all  alike,  —  upon  Gentile  as  well 
as  Jew.  Several  Jews  had  accompanied  Petsr  to  the  house  of 
Cornelius ;  and  "  they  were  astonished,  because  that  on  tne 
Gentiles  also  was  poured  out  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  for 
they  heard  them  speak  with  tongues,  and  magnify  God."  * 

Peter  then  said,  "  Can  any  man  forbid  water,  that  these 
should  not  be  baptized  which  have  received  the  Holy  Ghost  as 
well  as  we  ?  "  He  accordingly  baptized  these  believing  Gen- 
tiles in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  thus  received  them 
directly  into  the  church  without  insisting  upon  their  first 
becoming  Jews. 

When  the  tidings  reached  Jerusalem  and  other  parts  of 
Judaea  that  Peter  had  received  Gentiles  to  the  Church  of 
Jesus  Christ,  which  the  Jews  had  supposed  was  intended  for 
them  alone,  it  created  great  excitement.  Peter,  after  remain- 
ing a  few  days  in  Joppa,  returned  to  Jerusalem.  Here  he 
was  met  by  the  disaffected  brethren,  who  charged  him  with 
what  they  considered  the  great  ceremonial  crime  of  associating 
with  "  men  uncircumcised,"  and  eating  with  them. 

But  Peter  narrated  all  the  circumstances,  and  so  convin 
cingly,  that  "  they  held  their  peace,  and  glorified  God,  saying 
Then  hath  God  also  to  the  Gentiles  granted  repentance  untc 
life." 

1  All  that  have  lived  and  died,  or  shall  live  when  the  archangel's  trump  shsi, 
•ound,  will  stand  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Jesus  Christ. 

•  Acts  X.  34,  43.  »  Acts  x.  ^5,  4«. 


CONVERSION  AND   MINISTRY  OF  SAUL.  159 

The  other  disciples,  who,  by  the  persecution  at  Jerusalem, 
had  been  scattered  abroad,  travelled  as  far  as  Phoenice  and  the 
Island  of  Cyprus,  and  to  Antioch,  in  the  extreme  north,  which 
was  then  the  capital  of  Syria,  and  one  of  the  largest  cities  in 
the  world.  They,  however,  preached  the  gospel  only  to  the 
Jews,  not  considering  the  Gentiles  as  entitled  to  its  privileges. 
In  Antioch,  the  disciples  were  eminently  successful  in  preach- 
ing the  religion  of  Jesus ;  so  much  so,  that  it  is  recorded  that 
"  great  numbers  believed,  and  turned  unto  the  Lord."  ^ 

The  apostles  in  Jerusalem,  hearing  of  the  great  religious 
interest  which  was  excited  in  the  metropolitan  city  of  Antioch, 
aont  Barnabas  to  n,ssist  the  brethren  there.  He  was  "  a  good 
man,  full  of  faith  and  the  Holy  Ghost."  His  heart  was  re- 
joiced by  the  scenes  which  he  witnessed  in  Antioch,  and  elo- 
quently he  urged  the  converts  that  with  "  purpose  of  heart 
they  should  cleave  unto  the  Lord."  His  labors  gave  a  new 
impulse  to  the  conversions,  and  "  much  people  was  added  to 
the  Lord."  ^ 

Saul  was  at  this  time  preaching  in  Tarsus,  his  native  city, 
about  thirty  miles  north-west  from  Antioch.  Barnabas  went 
to  Tarsus  in  search  of  Saul,  and  brought  him  back  with  him 
to  the  metropolitan  city.  For  a  year  Saul  and  Barnabas  con- 
tinued in  Antioch,  preaching  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and 
there  first  the  disc'ttles  of  Jesus  received  the  title  of  Christians. 
This  was  about  the  vear  i-f  our  Lord  44.  As  so  many  Gentile 
converts  were  now  J»  >cking  into  the  churches,  the  Christians 
ceased  to  be  regardea  as  merely  a  sect  of  the  Jews,  and  the 
rapidly-increasing  disciples  in  their  varied  organizations  as- 
sumed gradually  a  new  9.nd  independent  character. 

It  so  happened  about  this  time  that  there  was  a  severe 
ircught  and  famine  in  Judaea ;  and  Saul  and  Barnabas  were 
sent  by  the  Christians  in  Antioch  with  contributions  for  the 
suffering  brethren  there  Herod  Agrippa  I.,  an  unprincipled 
ruler,  grandson  of  Herod  the  Great,  was  then  king  of  all  Pales- 
tine. He,  without  any  apparent  cause,  drew  the  sword  of  [)er- 
secution.    James,  the  brother  of  John,  was  put  to  death.     Peter 

1  Actsxi.  ij.  '  Acts  xi.  24. 


160  HISTORY  OF   CHRISTIANITY. 

was  arrested  and  thrown  into  prison,  and  so  carefully  guarded 
by  sixteen  soldiers  —  four  for  each  watch  in  the  night,  two 
chained  to  the  prisoner  in  his  cell,  and  two  stationed  at  the 
outside  door  —  as  to  render  his  escape  apparently  impossible. 
The  king  had  decided  to  gratify  the  malice  of  the  Jews,  imme- 
diately after  the  passover,  by  putting  Peter  to  death. 

The  night  had  arrived  which  was  supposed  to  be  the  last 
that  Peter  was  to  spend  upon  earth.  In  the  morning  he  was 
to  be  led  to  his  execution.  He  was  quietly  sleepir  g  betweer.- 
the  two  soldiers,  bound  to  them  by  chains.  The  inge^  o^T  the 
Lord,  whom  neither  granite  walls  nor  iron  doors  could  exclude, 
entered  the  prison  in  dazzling  eflfulgence.  As  he  awoke  Peter, 
the  chains  dropped  from  the  prisoner's  hands. 

"  Arise,"  said  the  angel,  "  gird  thyself,  bind  o^  thy  sandals, 
cast  thy  garment  about  thee,  and  follow  me." 

The  angel  led  him  through  the  intricacies  of  the  prison,  ani 
by  the  guards  who  were  paralyzed  with  fear,  until  ne  came  to 
the  outer  iron  portal  which  opened  into  the  city.  The  massive 
gate,  of  its  own  accord,  swung  open  upon  its  hinges.  The  angel 
led  Peter  into  one  of  the  streets,  and  took  leave  of  him.  It 
was  midnight.  Peter  found  himself  near  the  house  of  Mary, 
the  mother  of  John.  Several  of  the  disciples,  knowing  that 
Peter  was  to  be  executed  the  next  day,  had  met  there  to  pass 
the  night  in  prayer.  Peter  knocked  at  the  gate.  A  young 
girl  by  the  name  of  Rhoda  went  to  the  door ;  and  when  shs 
heard  the  voice  of  Peter,  instead  of  opening  to  him,  she  was 
BO  overjoyed  and  bewildered,  that  she  ran  back  with  the 
tidings. 

The  disciples,  knowing  how  appareut:.y  impossible  it  was  £<,? 
Peter  to  escape  from  the  guard  set  ovfr  him,  did  not  credit  her 
assertion,  but  declared  that  she  wat  insane.  Upon  going  to 
the  gate,  however,  they  found,  to  their  t-stcnishment  and  delight, 
that  Peter  stood  before  them.  He  informed  them  of  his 
miraculous  deliverance,  and  the  same  night  withdrew  from  the 
city.i 

The  dawn  of  the  morning,  revealing  the  events  of  the  night, 

Acts  xii.  6-17. 


C01T7ERSION  AND  MINISTRY  OF  SAUL.  161 

reated  intense  commotion  in  the  city.  Herod  commar  ded  thtt 
gitard  to  be  put  to  death,  and  inr-^it'ted  a  rigorous  but  un- 
availing search  throughout  the  city  for  Peter.  Soon  after, 
Herod  left  Jerusalem  for  Caesarea,  and  took  up  his  abod«» 
Caere.  On  the  1st  of  August,^  there  was  ■?  magnificent  festi- 
val in  Caesarea  in  honor  of  the  king.  From  all  the  region 
around,  the  population  flocked  into  the  spacious  theatre,  whose 
stone  seats  rose  tier  above  tier  in  %  vast  semicircle,  which  wa£i 
thronged  with  those  eager  to  do  homage  to  the  infamous  yet 
powerful  mona];ph.  As  Herod  entered,  the  edifice  rang  with 
applause.  Seated  upon  a  gorgeous  throne,  he  addressed  the 
multitude.  With  one  voice  the  sycophantic  throng  shouted, 
"  It  is  the  voice  of  a  god,  and  not  of  a  man  1 "  In  the  midst  of 
this  scene  of  pride  and  blasphemy,  the  angel  of  death  smote 
Herod  with  an  invisible  dart ;  and  the  wretched  man  was  taken 
fi'om  the  tneatre  in  convulsions,  which  soon  consigned  him  to 
the  tomb. 

Saul  and  Barnabas  had  returned  to  Antioch,  and,  with  other 
brethren,  were  earnestly  engaged  in  preaching  the  gospel  there. 
A  divine  intimation  influenced  the  brethren  to  set  apart  these 
two  distinguished  disciples  for  a  missionary  excursion  to  the 
bcniglited  regions  beyond  them.  After  a  season  of  fasting 
and  prayer,  they  laid  their  hands  upon  them,  ordaining  them 
'^br  this  special  work.  Antioch  was  situated  upon  the  River 
Orontes,  about  twenty  miles  from  its  entrance  into  the  Medi- 
terranean. The  two  missionaries  repaired  to  Seleucia,  an  im- 
portant seaport  on  the  coast.  Far  oif  in  the  west,  the  moun- 
tains of  the  majestic  Island  of  Cyprus  could  be  seen  on  a  clear 
da,y,  emerging  from  the  horizon  in  shadowy  glory.  Cyprus 
was  the  native  place  of  Barnauas.  Taking  ship,  a  sail  of  per- 
haps a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  brought  them  to  Salamis,  a 
populous  city  upon  the  island,  where  there  was  a  large  colony 
of  JewB. 

Here  they  preached  the  gospel  of  Jesus  in  the  Jewish  syna- 
gogc.e,  but  with  what  success  we  are  not  informed  ;  neither  is 
t  recorded  how  long  they  tarried  in  that  city.     They  crossed 

>  Josephus,  Ant.  xix.8-12. 


162  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

til 3  island^  a  distance  of  about  a  hundred  miles,  from  Sala- 
misj  on  the  eastern  coast,  o  Paphos,  the  capital,  on  the  wess. 
Here  the  governor  of  the  island,  Sergius  Paulus,  resided.  He 
was  a  serious-minded,  worthy  man ;  and  he  sent  for  Saul  and 
Barnabas,  wishing  to  hear  from  them  the  principles  of  the  new 
religioi . 

But  a  virulent  opposer  arose,  a  pretended  sorcerer,  by  the 
name  of  Elymas,  who  did  every  thing  in  his  power  to  prevent 
the  governor  from  listening  to  the  words  of  the  disciples. 
Saul,  "filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost,"  fixed  his  e^'es  upon  the  im- 
postor, and  addressed  him  in  the  following  terrible  rebuke  :  — 

"  0  full  of  all  subtlety  and  all  mischief,  thou  child  of  the 
devil,  thou  enemy  of  all  righteousness !  wilt  thou  not  cease  to 
pervert  the  right  ways  of  the  Lord  ?  And  now,  behold,  the 
hand  of  the  Lord  is  upon  thee,  and  thou  shalt  be  blind,  not 
seeing  the  sun  for  a  season." 

The  guilty  opposer  of  the  religion  of  Jesus  was  instantly 
struck  with  blindness,  and  groped  his  way  along,  "  seeking 
some  one  to  lead  him  by  the  hand."  The  governor,  already 
deeply  impressed  by  the  teachings  of  the  disciples,  and  aston- 
ished by  the  miracle,  became  himself  a  follower  of  Jesus.  Of 
his  subsequent  life  we  know  nothing,  but  trust  that  he  endured 
to  the  end,  and  that  he  is  now  rejoicing  in  the  paradise  of 
God. 

In  connection  with  this  miracle,  we  find  the  name  of  Saul 
changed  to  Paul.  Until  this  time,  he  is  invariably  spoken  of 
as  Saul.  The  sacred  writer,  recording  these  scenes  at  Paphos, 
simply  says,  "  Saul,  who  also  is  called  Paul."  Ever  after  this 
he  is  spoken  of  as  Paul. 

Paul  and  Barnabas,  with  MarK,  who  had  accompanied  them 
as  their  attendant  and  assistant,  sailing  from  Paphos,  crossed 
the  arm  of  the  sea,  and  landed  on  the  coast  of  Asia  Mioor, 
at  the  little  seaport  town  of  Perga  in  Pamphylia.  Plere,  for 
some  unexplained  reason,  Mark  became  dissatisfied,  and  ex- 
cited the  displeasure  of  his  companions  by  abandoning  them, 
and  returning  to  Jerusalem,  which  had  been  the  home  of  hie 
earlier  years. 


CONVERSION  AND  MINISTRY  OF  SAUL.  163 

'Hie  two  intrepid  disciples  made  but  a  short  tarry  at  Perga. 
Entering  the  wild  passes  of  the  Pisidian  mountains,  they 
traversed  a  desert  region,  encountering  every  step  of  the  way 
perils  of  robbers,  until  they  reached  the  important  city  of 
Antioch  in  Pisidia,  about  a  hundred  miles  from  the  sea- 
coast.  This  populous  city  was  inhabited  by  Greeks,  Jews, 
and  a  strong  E,oman  colony.  The  sabbath  came.  Paul  and 
Barnabas,  according  to  their  custom,  repaired  to  the  Jewish 
synagogue.  As  strangers  of  distinction,  they  were  invited  to 
address  the  people.  Luke,  iu  '■h.Q  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  has 
given  us  quite  a  full  abstract  of  the  address  of  Paul  upon 
this  occasion.^  Here,  as  everywhere,  "  Christ  and  him  cruci- 
fied "  was  the  theme  of  the  apostle's  discourse.  First  he  proved 
from  the  prophets  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah ;  that,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  voice  of  prophecy,  he  had  been  put  to  death  by 
wicked  men,  and  on  the  third  day  had  risen  from  the  grave. 
He  closed  with  the  following  words  :  — 

"And  we  declare  unto  you  glad  tidings,  how  that  the  promise 
which  was  made  unto  the  fathers,  God  hath  fulfilled  the  same 
unto  us,  their  children,  in  that  he  hath  raised  up  Jesus  again. 
Be  it  known  unto  you,  therefore,  men  and  brethren,  that 
through  this  man  is  preached  unto  you  the  forgiveness  of 
sins ;  and  by  him  all  that  believe  are  justified  from  all 
things,  from  which  ye  could  not  be  justified  by  the  law  of 
Moses.  Beware,  therefore,  lest  that  come  upon  you  which  is 
spoken  of  in  the  prophets  :  Behold,  ye  despisers,  and  wonder, 
and  perish  ;  for  I  work  a  work  in  your  days,  —  a  work  which  ye 
shall  in  no  wise  believe,  though  a  man  declare  it  unto  you." 

There  were  many  Gentiles  present.  The  Jews,  as  a  body, 
did  not  favorably  receive  this  address  of  Paul.  The  Gentiles, 
on  the  contrary,  entreated  him  to  preach  to  them  again  on  the 
next  sabbath.  There  were  also  many  of  the  Jews  who  united 
vith  them  in  this  request.  During  the  week,  Paul  and  Barnabas 
were  doubtless  busy  preaching  the  gospel  as  they  could  find  op- 
portunity. The  next  sabbath,  the  synagogue  was  thronged. 
**  Almost  the  whole  city  came  together  to  hear  the  word  of 

1  Acta  xiii.  1&-41. 


164  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

G-cmI  ;  but,  when  the  Jews  saw  the  multitudes,  they  were  fille<3 
with  envy,  and  spake  against  those  things  which  were  spoken 
by  Paul,  contradicting  and  blaspheming."^ 

It  is  of  no  avail  to  present  the  truth  to  those  who  are  de- 
termined not  to  receive  it.  To  these  cavilling  Jews  Paul  and 
Barnabas  replied,  "It  was  necessary  that  the  word  of  God 
should  first  have  been  spoken  to  you ;  but  seeing  ye  put  it 
from  you,  and  judge  yourselves  unworthy  of  everlasting  lifa, 
lo,  we  turn  to  the  Gentiles :  for  so  hath  the  Lord  commanded 
us,  saying,  I  have  set  thee  to  be  a  light  of  the  Gentiles,  that 
thou  shouldest  be  for  salvation  unto  the  ends  of  the  earth."  * 

Luke  adds  the  expressive  words,  "And,  when  the  Gentiles 
heard  this,  they  were  glad,  and  glorified  the  word  of  the  Lord ; 
and  as  many  as  were  ordained  to  eternal  life  believed." 

The  successful  preaching  of  the  gospel  has  almost  invariably 
excited  corresponding  antagonism.  Converts  were  multiplied ; 
and  penetrating  the  region  around,  proclaiming  the  giad  tid- 
ings of  salvation  through  a  suffering  Messiah,  they  established 
flourishing  churches  in  many  places.  Here,  for  the  first  time, 
we  find  female  influence  arrayed  against  the  cause  of  Christ. 
The  hostile  Jews  won  to  their  side  some  ladies  of  high  re- 
spectability, and,  through  them,  influenced  the  political  leaders. 
Thus  so  formidable  an  opposition  was  roused,  that  Paul  and 
Barnabas  were  expelled  from  the  city,  and  from  its  imme- 
diately surrounding  region. 

They  therefore  pressed  on  their  way  to  Iconium,  nearly  a 
hundred  miles  east  from  Antioch.  Here,  also,  they  found  a 
mixed  population  of  Greeks,  Jews,  and  Eomans.  They  re- 
paired to  the  synagogue,  and  preached  the  gospel  of  Jesus 
with  such  success,  that  it  is  recorded,  "A  great  multitude,  both 
of  the  Jews  and  also  of  the  Greeks,  believed."  As  usual,  op- 
position was  excited ;  but  it  was  at  first  not  sufficiently  strong 
to  drive  them  from  the  city.  We  are  told  that  "  long  time 
abode  they,  speaking  boldly  in  the  Lord."  At  length,  itie 
opposition  assumed  very  formidable  proportions.  A  riotous 
mob  was  roused  by  the  unbelieving  Jews,  who  threatened  to 
■tone  Paul  and  Barnabas. 

»  Acts  x'j".  4i.  •  Im.  tUx.  t. 


CONVERSION  AND  MINISTRY  OF  SAUL.  165 

They  therefore  withdrew  from  Iconium  ;  and,  continuing 
their  journey  eastward  (forty  or  fifty  miles),  they  reached  the 
small  town  of  Lystra.  Here  they  found  a  man  who  had  heen 
a  cripple  from  his  birth,  and  who  had  never  walked.  Paul 
healed  him.  The  rude,  supers'titious  people,  accustomed  to 
the  idolatrous  worship  cf  almost  any  number  of  gods,  ex- 
claimed, ^'  The  gods  are  come  to  us  in  the  likeness  of  men ! " 

Ab3uming  that  Paul  and  Barnabas  were  two  of  their  favor- 
ite pj'ids;  —  Jupiter  and  Mercurius,  —  they  summoned  the 
priest  xix  ui  the  temple  of  Jupiter,  which  was  reared  before  the 
principal,  gate  of  the  ci^'j',  and,  with  garlands  and  sacrifices, 
were  prepp.ring  to  offer  idolatrous  worship  to  the  strangers. 
When  Pf  ol  and  Barnabas  perceived  what  the  Lystrians  were 
about  to  do,  they  were  horror-stricken,  and,  rushing  in  among 
the  idolaters,  remonstrated  so  vehemently,  as  to  dissuade  them, 
though  with  difficulty,  from  their  purpose. 

Some  jnalignant  Jews  came  from  Antioch  and  Iconium,  and 
roused  the  fickle-minded  mob,  so  that  they  stoned  Paul,  and 
drew  him  out  of  the  city,  supposing  him  to  be  dead.  The 
converts,  who  were  not  numerous  enough  to  prevent  this  vio- 
lence, gathered  around  the  bruised  and  gory  body ;  when  Paxil 
revived,  and,  with  characteristic  bravery,  went  back  again  into 
the  city. 

The  next  day,  Paul,  accompanied  by  Barnabas,  proceeded  to 
another  city  (Derbe),  a  few  miles  farther  east.  Here  they 
preached  the  gospel  for  some  time,  gaining  many  disciples ; 
when  ''they  returned  again  to  Lystra,  and  to  Iconium  and  Anti- 
och, confirming  the  souls  of  the  disciples,  and  exhorting  them 
to  continue  in  the  faith,  and  that  we  must  through  much  tribu- 
l^btion  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  And  when  they  had 
iidained  them  elders  in  every  church,  and  had  prayed  with 
'asting,  they  commended  them  to  the  Lord,  on  whom  they 
fcolieved.''  ^ 

They  then  returned  by  the  same  route  they  had  already 
ttdiversed,  preaching  as  they  went,  till  they  reached  Perga, 
whence  they  took  ship  for  Antioch.     It  Is  conjectured  that 

1  Acts  xiv.  21-23. 


166  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

this  tour  occupied  about  a  year.  Upon  their  arrival  in  An- 
tioch,  they  gathered  all  the  disciples,  and  recounted  to  then 
the  events  of  their  excursion,  dwelling  particularly  upon  the 
fact  that  God  "  had  opened  the  door  of  faith  unto  the  Gen- 
tiles." They  both  continued  in  Antioch  for  a '' long  time," 
preaching  the  gospeL 


CHAPTER  Vn. 


MISSIONARY   ADVENTUBES. 


The  First  Controversy.  —  Views  of  the  Two  Parties.  —  Council  at  Jerusalem.  —  R»- 
suits  of  Council.  —  The  Letter.  —  Vacillation  of  Peter.  — Rebuked  by  Paul. — 
The  Missionary  Excursion  of  Paul  and  Barnabas.  —  They  traverse  the  Island  of 
Cyprus.  —  Land  on  the  Coast  of  Asia  Minor.  —  Mark  returns  to  iiyria.  —  Result* 
of  this  Tour.  —  Paul  and  Bilas  set  out  on  a  Second  Tour  throu?'h  Asia  Minor. 
—  Cross  the  Hellespont.  —  Introduction  of  Christianity  to  Europe.  Heroism  of 
Paul  atPhillppl.  —  Tour  through  Macedonia  and  Greece.-  -Chaiacterof  Paul'* 
Preaching.  —  Peter's  Description  of  the  Final  Conflagration.  —  Z'al&e  Charges  — 
Paul  in  Athens ;  In  Corinth.  —  Return  to  Jerusalem 


'HE  Jews  had  supposed  that  the  Messiah  was  to 
come  to  the  Jews  alone,  and  that  no  one  could 
become  a  member  of  his  kingdom  unless  he 
first  became  a  Jew.  But  Paul  and  Barnabas 
were  preaching  to  the  Gentiles,  and  establish- 
ing churches  among  them.  Thus  quite  a  se- 
rious dissension  sprang  up  among  the  Chris- 
tians, who  had  previously  been  Jews,  upon  this  question. 
While  some  of  the  brethren  ardently  advocated  the  doctrine, 
"Except  ye  be  circumcised  after  the  manner  of  Moses,  ye 
cannot  be  saved,"  Paul  opposed  this  sentiment  with  all  his 
energies.  Several  of  these  "  Judaizing  Christians,"  as  they 
were  termed,  came  down  to  Antioch  from  Judsea,  and  so 
troubled  the  Christians  there  with  disputatious  which  seemed 
to  threaten  the  very  foundations  of  Christianity,  that  it  was 
determined  to  summon  a  council  of  the  most  eminent  Chris- 
tians at  Jerusalem,  the  seat  of  the  mother  church,  to  settle 
the  agitating  question. 

lei 


168  mSTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Paul  and  Barnabas,  witLi  several  other  members  of  the 
Church  at  Antioch,  were  commissioned  as  delegates  to  attend 
'ihis  council.  On  their  journey,  as  they  passed  through  the 
cities  of  Samaria,  preaching  by  the  way,  they  announced  the 
glad  tidings  that  God  was  receiving  the  Gentiles,  and  confer- 
ring upon  them  the  gifts  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  same  as  upon 
the  Jews.  It  is  estimated  that  fifteen  years  had  now  passed 
since  Paul  traversed  that  same  road,  from  Jerusalem  to  Da- 
mascus, to  persecute  the  Christians.  Since  that  time,  Paul 
had  twice  visited  the  Holy  City,  and  Christianity  had  made 
extraordinary  progress  throughout  Syria  and  Asia  Minor. 
Upon  arriTing  at  Jerusalem,  the  council  was  convened,  over 
which  James,  pastor  of  the  church  there,  presided.  As  soon 
as  the  councL  was  opened,  several  of  the  Judaizing  Christians 
arose,  and  argued  that  all  Gentile  converts  should  be  circum- 
cised, ano  that  tbay  should  punctiliously  observe  all  the  rites 
of  the  ceremonial  law.  Peter  was  the  first  one  to  reply  on 
the  other  side.     We  have  an  abstract  of  his  speech :  — 

"  Men  and  brethren,"  said  he,  "  ye  know  how  that  a  good 
while  ago  ^  God  made  choice  among  us,  that  the  Gentiles,  by 
my  mouth,  should  hear  the  word  of  the  gospel,  and  believe. 
And  God,  which  knoweth  the  hearts,  bare  them  witness,  giv- 
ing them  the  Holy  Ghost,  even  as  he  did  unto  us ;  and  put  no 
difference  between  us  and  them,  purifying  their  hearts  by 
faith.  Now,  therefore,  why  tempt  ye  God,  to  put  a  yoke  upon 
the  neck  of  the  disciples,  which  neither  our  fathers  nor  we 
were  able  to  bear  ?  But  we  believe  that  through  the  grace  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  we  shall  be  saved,  even  as  they."  ^ 

Then  Barnabas  and  Paul  gave  an  account  of  their  mission- 
ary tour  through  Asia  Minor,  and  of  the  wonderful  success 
with  which  God  had  blessed  the  preaching  of  >;h3  gos-^el 
among  the  Gentiles.  James  then  rose,  whose  opinion  a  p-e- 
siding  officer,  and  pastor  of  the  metropolitan  church  would 
have  great  weight  with  the  council,  and  very  earnestij'  and 
convincingly  sustained  the  views  advocated  by  Peter,  Paul, 
and  Barnabas.     The  result  recorded  by  LuKe  was  as  folio  rt's  .  — 

1  About  ten  years  before.  '  Act   xv.  7-11. 


3IISSI0NARY  ADVENTURES.  169 

"Then  pleased  it  tlie  apostles  and  elders,  with  the  whole 
church,  to  send  chosen  men  of  their  own  company  to  Antioch 
with  Paul  and  Barnabas ;  namely,  Judas  sumamed  Barsabas, 
and  Silas,  chief  men  among  the  brethren  :  and  they  wrote 
letters  by  them  after  this  manner :  — 

"  The  apostles  and  elders  and  brethren  send  greeting  unto 
the  brethren  which  are  of  the  Grentiles  in  Antioch  and 
Syria  and  Cilicia :  Forasmuch  as  we  have  heard  that  certain 
which  went  out  from  us  have  troubled  you  with  words,  sub- 
verting your  souls,  saying,  Ye  must  be  circumcised,  and  keep 
the  law  (to  whom  we  gave  no  such  commandment),  it  seemed 
good  unto  us,  being  assembled  with  one  accord,  to  send  cho- 
sen men  unto  you  with  our  beloved  Barnabas  and  Paul,  — 
men  that  have  hazarded  their  lives  for  the  name  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  We  have  sent,  therefore,  Judas  and  Silas,  who 
shall  also  tell  you  the  same  things  by  mouth  :  for  it  seemed 
good  to  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  to  us,  to  lay  upon  you  no  greater 
burden  than  these  necessary  things,  —  that  ye  abstain  from 
meats  offered  to  idols,  and  from  blood,  and  from  things  stran- 
gled, and  from  fornication  ;  from  which  if  ye  keep  yourselves, 
ye  shall  do  well.     Fare  ye  well."  ^ 

The  brethren  returned  to  Antioch,  and  communicated  to  the 
assembled  church  there  the  result  of  the  council.  It  gave 
great  satisfaction ;  and  though,  for  a  time,  the  all-important 
question  continued  here  and  there  to  trouble  the  churches, 
eventually  there  was  universal  acquiescence  in  the  decision  of 
the  brethren  at  Jerusalem.  After  this,  Paul  and  Barnabas 
continued  some  time  in  Antioch,  "teaching  and  preaching  the 
word  of  the  Loid." 

In  the  mean  time,  Peter  came  to  Antioch  to  assist  the 
brethren  ir.  their  labors  there.  Impetuous  and  versatile, 
and  far  from  infallible,  he  at  first  lived  in  free  intercourse 
witii  the  Gentile  converts,  eating  with  them,  and  meeting 
them  in  social  friendship  on  terms  of  entire  equality;  but 
suddenly,  "through  fear  of  those  who  were  of  the  circum- 
cision," we  find  him  withdrawing  from  those  whom  he  had 

1  Acts  XT.  i23-28. 


170  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

just  been  treating  as  equals,  and  giving  his  example  in  favoi 
of  those  who  demanded  that  the  Gentiles  should  become  Jews. 

This  vacillation  and  inconsistency  on  the  part  of  Peter 
excited  the  indignation  of  Paul.  The  account  which  Paul 
gives  of  this  transaction  is  as  follows :  — 

"  But,  when  Peter  was  come  to  Antioch,  I  withstood  him  to 
the  face,  because  he  was  to  be  blamed.  For,  before  that  '-  -^rtain 
came  from  James,  he  did  eat  with  the  Gentiles  ;  but,  ./hen 
they  were  come,  he  withdrew,  and  separated  himself,  fear'ng 
them  which  were  of  the  circumcision.  And  the  other  Jews 
dissembled  likewise  with  him,  insomuch  that  Barnabas  also 
was  carried  away  with  their  dissimulation.  But,  when  I  saw 
that  they  walked  not  uprightly  according  to  the  truth  of  the 
gospel,  I  said  unto  Peter  before  them  all,  — 

*'If  thou,  being  a  Jew,  livest  after  the  manner  of  Gentiles, 
and  not  as  do  the  Jews,  why  compellest  thou  the  Gentiles  to 
live  as  do  the  Jews  ?  We  who  are  Jews  by  nature,  and  not 
sinners  of  the  Gentiles,  knowing  that  a  man  is  not  justified 
by  the  works  of  the  law,  but  by  the  faith  of  Jesus  Christ,  — 
even  we  have  believed  in  Jesus  Christ,  that  we  might  be  jus- 
tified by  the  faith  of  Christ,  and  not  by  the  works  of  the  law ; 
for  by  the  works  of  the  law  shall  nc  flesh  be  justified."  ^ 

There  is  no  evidence  that  this  eveitt  caused  any  permanent 
alienation  between  the  two  apostles.  It  is  more  probable  that 
Peter,  whose  mind  was  susceptible  of  such  rapio  changes,  im- 
mediately relented,  and,  with  all  the  gushings  of  his  generous 
and  loving  nature,  returned  to  duty.  It  is  pleasant  to  read  in 
one  of  the  subsequent  epistles  of  Peter  the  words,  "Even  as 
our  beloved  brother  Paul  hath  writter-  unto  you."  ^ 

Soon  after  this,  the  enterprising  spirit  of  Paul  induced  him 
to  leave  the  comparative  tranquillity  of  his  home  and  labors  in 
Antioch,  and  to  revisit  all  the  cities  and  villages  in  Asia  Mi- 
nor, where  he,  with  Barnabas,  had  established  churches.  He 
said  to  Barnabas,  "  Let  us  go  again  and  visit  our  brethren  in 
every  city  where  we  have  preached  the  word  of  the  Lord,  and 
see  how  they  do."  ^ 

Gal.  ii.  11-16,  »  2  Pet.  iii.  15.  »  Aots  xv.  3fl 


MISSIONARY  ADVENTURES.  171 

Barnabas  wislied  to  take  Mark  with  them  again  as  an 
attendant.  This  John  Mark,  the  same  one  who  wrote  the  Gospel 
under  his  name,  was  the  nephew  of  Barnabas,  being  liis  sister's 
son.  Paul  was  unwilling  to  take  him,  being  displeased  with 
his  conduct  on  their  previous  tour,  when  he  "  departed  from 
them  from  Pamphylia,  and  went  not  with  them  to  their  work." 
Barnabas  was  probably  not  a  man  of  very  much  force  of  char- 
acter, as  is  indicated  by  his  being  carried  away  with  the  dis- 
simulation of  Peter  to  which  we  have  alluded.  He  had  cer- 
tainly occupied  a  secondary  position  on  the  previous  missionary 
tour,  and  Paul  was  perhaps  not  unwilling  to  exchange  him  for 
some  other  brother. 

There  is  no  evidence  that  there  was  any  angry  controversy 
here,  —  any  thing  inconsistent  with  the  Christian  integrity  and 
brotherly  kindness  of  the  two  men.  Barnabas  took  Mark  with 
him,  and,  embarking  at  Seleucia,  sailed  for  the  Island  of  Cy- 
prus. Paul  chose  Silas  as  his  companion,  one  of  the  delegates 
who  had  been  sent  from  the  council  at  Jerusalem  to  Antioch. 
Journeying  by  land,  and  probably  on  foot  through  Syria  and 
Ci-icia^  they  visitec.  the  churches  in  Asia  Minor,  in  a  route 
from  e^st  to  west,  instead  of,  as  before,  from  west  to  east. 

Proceeding  through  Derbe,  he  came  to  Lystra,  where,  on  the 
previous  tour,  he  had  been  cruelly  stoned.  Here  he  found  a 
young  convert  by  the  name  of  Timothy,  for  whom  he  formed  the 
strongest  of  earthly  attachments.  Timothy's  mother  was  a 
Jewess ;  but  his  father  was  a  Gentile,  a  Greek.  His  lineage  was 
good,  as  Paul  speaks  of  "  the  unfeigned  faith  which  dwelt  first 
in  thy  grandmother  Lois  and  thy  mother  Eunice."  ^  Timothy 
attached  himself  to  Paul,  and  ever  after  they  were  associated 
as  father  and  sod.  Paul  repeatedly  calls  him  "  my  son,"  "my 
own  son  in  the  aith,"  *^.nd  writes,  "Ye  know,  that,  as  a  son 
with  the  fathe;:,  je  hath  served  with  me  in  the  gospel."  ^ 

Timothy  was  the  sou  of  a  Jewess ;  and  his  father,  though  a 
Greek,  was  unquestionably  not  an  idolater,  but  a  proselyte. 
While  Paul  was  carrying  "  to  all  the  churches  "  the  decision 
of  ihi,  council  in  Jerusalem,  —  that  Gentiles  were  not  to  be 

»  S  Tim.  1.  5.  »  Phil.  U.  22. 


172  HISTORY  OT    CHRISTIANITY. 

forced  into  Judaism  upon  becoming  Christians,  —  still,  out  of 
regard  to  the  strong  prejudices  of  the  Jews  among  whom  he 
was  going,  he  caused  Timothy  to  be  circumcised.  Some  have 
regarded  this  as  inconsistent  conduct  on  the  part  of  Paul ; 
others  have  considered  it  but  an  indication  of  his  far-sighted 
wisdom  and  caution.  But  for  this,  the  hostile  Jews  would 
have  had  a  new  and  formidable  weapon  of  opposition  to  wield 
against  him.  As  Timothy  could  not  be  regarded  as  a  Gentile, 
the  action  of  Paul  could  not  be  deemed  inconsistent  with  the 
decision  of  the  council  at  Jerusalem. 

Paul,  Siias,  and  Timothy  passed  through  the  whole  central 
region  of  Asia  Minor,  preaching  the  gospel  in  all  its  cities  arid 
villages  ;  but  we  have  no  record  of  the  incidents  which  attend- 
ed their  labors,  or  of  the  adventures  which  they  encountered. 
It  was  undoubtedly  a  successful  excursion  ;  for  the  sacred  his- 
torian writes,  "And  so  were  the  churches  established  in  the 
faith,  and  increased  in  numbers  daily."  ^ 

Passing  through  the  provinces  of  Phrygia  and  Mysia,  they 
came  to  Troas,  on  the  eastern  coast  of  the  ^gean  Sea,  not  far 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Hellespont.  Here  the  vision  of  a  min 
appeared  to  Paul  in  the  night,  saying,  "  Come  over  into  Mace- 
donia and  help  us."  They  therefore  took  a  vessel  at  Troaa, 
and  sailed  in  a  north-westerly  direction,  among  the  islands  of 
the  ^gean  Sea,  till  they  came  to  the  important  Island  of  Sam- 
othracia.  Passing  around  this  island  on  the  north,  they 
directed  their  course  to  Pliilippi,  on  the  Macedonian  coast. 
This  was  the  chief  city  of  that  part  of  Macedonia.  There  was 
an  important  Roman  colouy  established  here,  and  a  synagogue 
of  the  Jews  outside  of  the  walls.  Here  they  remained  several 
days,  probably,  as  was  ever  their  custom,  or.  the  week-days 
preaching  the  gospel  in  the  streets  of  the  city,  and  from  house 
to  house.  On  the  sabbath,  they  went  tc  the  Jewish  syna- 
gogue by  a  river-side.  The  following  incident  is  recorded  as 
occurring  at  this  time  and  place  :  — 

"  A  certain  woman  named  Lydia,  a  seller  of  purple,  of  the 
city  of  Thyatira,   which  worshipped   God,   heard  us:    .->^nDS» 

1  Acts  xvi.  5. 


MISSIONARY  ADVENTURES.  173 

heart  tte  Lord  opened,  that  she  attended  unto  the  things 
which  were  spoken  of  Paul.  And  when  she  was  baptized,  and 
her  household,  she  besought  us,  saying,  If  ye  have  judged  me 
to  be  faithful  tc  the  Lord,  come  into  my  house,  and  abide  there. 
And  she  constrained  us."  ^ 

Thus  peacefully  the  gospel  was  first  transplanted  into  Europe. 
But  in  this  life,  "  after  the  calm,  the  storm  "  seems  to  be  the 
rule.  Some  persons  of  influence  owned  a  slave-girl,  who  was 
believed  to  be  possessed  "  with  a  spirit  of  divination."  How 
much  of  this  was  imposture  cannot  now  be  known.  But  the 
owners  of  this  damsel  derived  much  profit  from  the  many  cred- 
vdous  people  who  flocked  to  her  to  have  their  fortunes  told. 
Impelled  by  some  unexplained  influence,  as  she  met  Paul  and 
Silas  day  after  day,  she  exclaimed,  in  the  hearing  of  all  the 
people,  — 

"  These  men  are  the  servants  of  the  most  high  God,  which 
show  unto  us  the  way  of  salvation." 

At  length,  Paul,  ''being  grieved,  turned  and  said,  I  com- 
mand thee,  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  come  out  of  her." 

Her  powers  of  divination,  whatever  they  were,  immediately 
left  her.  Her  masters  were  enraged.  All  hope  of  future  gain 
wa,s  at  an  end.  They  seized  Paul  and  Silas,  and  dragged  them 
before  the  city  authorities.  It  was  not  easy  to  bring  any  accu- 
sation -.gainst  them ;  for  the  law  allowed  no  remedy  for  prop- 
erty dep:reciated  by  exorcism.  They  therefore  framed  a  charge 
in  which  truth  and  falsehood  were  singularly  blended. 

"These  men,"  said  they,  "being  Jews,  do  exceedingly  trou- 
ble our  city,  and  teach  customs  which  are  not  lawful  for  us  to 
receive,  neither  to  observe,  being  Romans." 

The  Jews  had  recently,  in  consequence  of  some  disturbance, 
been  aU  driven  out  of  Rome.^  They  were  generally  hated 
and  despised.  It  was  also  a  principle  in  Roman  law,  that  any 
religious  innovations  which  threatened  to  unsettle  the  minds 
of  the  people,  or  to  create  tumult,  were  to  be  rigorously  sup- 
presped.  Under  these  circumstances,  it  was  not  diflScult  to 
roune  the  violence  of  the  mob. 

>  Acts  xvi.  14, 15.  »  Acts  xviU.  2. 


174  BISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

The  magistrates,  apparently  without  listening  to  any  defence, 
ordered  them  to  be  led  to  the  whipping-post  and  scourged 
The  scourging  upon  the  hare  back  by  the  brawny  arms  of  &. 
Roman  lictor  was  indeed  a  terrible  ordeal  for  any  one  to  pass 
through.  Bruised  with  the  lash,  and  fainting  from  pain  and 
the  loss  of  blood,  they  were  thrust  into  a  dark,  pestilfcntiai 
dungeon  in  the  inner  prison ;  and  their  feet  were  made  fast 
in  the  stocks.  The  jailer  had  special  charge  to  keep  them 
safely.  The  scene  which  ensued  cannot  be  better  narrated 
than  in  the  language  of  Luke  :  — 

"  And  at  midnight  Paul  and  Silas  prayed,  and  sang  praises 
unto  God ;  and  the  prisoners  heard  them.  And  suddenly  there 
was  a  great  earthquake,  so  that  the  foundations  of  the  prison 
were  shaken ;  and  immediately  all  the  doors  were  opened,  and 
every  one's  bands  were  loosed.  And  the  keeper  of  the  prison 
awaking  out  of  his  sleep,  and  seeing  the  prison-doors  open,  he 
drew  out  his  sword,  and  would  have  killed  himself,  supposing 
that  the  prisoners  had  been  fled.  But  Paul  cried  with  a  loud 
voice,  saying.  Do  thyself  no  harm  ;  for  we  are  all  here.  Then 
he  called  for  a  light,  and  sprang  in,  and  came  trembling,  and 
fell  down  before  Paul  and  Silas,  and  brought  them  out,  and 
said,  Sirs,  what  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?  And  they  said,  Be- 
lieve on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved,  and 
thy  house.  And  they  spake  unto  him  the  word  of  the  Lord, 
and  to  all  that  were  in  his  house.  And  he  took  them  the 
same  hour  of  the  night,  and  washed  their  stripes  ;  and  was 
baptized,  he  and  all  his,  straightway." 

The  morning  dawned.  The  magistrates,  probably  some- 
what alarmed  in  view  of  the  violent  measures  which  they 
had  pursued,  sent  officers  to  the  jailer  with  the  order,  that 
he  should  "let  those  men  go."  Paul  and  Silas  were  both 
Roman  citizens,  and  Paul  was  a  lawyer.  The  Roman  law 
did-  not  allow  any  one  entitled  to  the  dignity  of  Roman  citi- 
senship  to  be  exposed  to  the  ignominy  of  scourging.^ 

1  "  How  often,"  says  Cicero,  "has  the  exclamation,  ' I  am  a  Roman  citigen!* 
brought  aid  and  safety,  even  among  barbarians  in  the  remotest  parts  of  th« 
•firth  I  "  —  Cicero,  Verr.  v.  57. 


MISSIONARY  ADVENTURES.  175 

These  Roman  citizens,  without  any  form  of  trial,  without  any 
legal  condemnation,  had  been  openly  scourged  in  the  market- 
place. Paul  therefore  replied  to  the  message  from  the  magis- 
trates ordering  them  to  be  liberated,  — 

"  They  have  beaten  us  openly  uncondemned,  being  Romans, 
and  have  cast  us  into  prison ;  and  now  do  they  thrust  us  out 
privily  ?  i^ay,  verily  ;  but  let  them  come  themselves  and  fetch 
us  out." 

The  magistrates  were  greatly  alarmed  when  they  learned 
that  their  victims  were  Roman  citizens.  The  report  of  the 
outrage  at  Rome  would  cost  them  their  offices,  if  not  their 
lives.  They  therefore  hastened  to  the  prisoners,  and  became 
suppliants  before  those  whom  tliey  had  so  inhumanly  perse- 
cuted, entreating  them  to  depart  out  of  their  city.  Paul 
made  no  appeal  to  the  authorities  at  Rome ;  he  was  too  busy 
preaching  the  gospel  to  devote  anj'  time  to  personal  redress : 
but  the  course  he  pursued  throughout  that  scene  of  suffering 
placed  Christianity  on  high  vantage-ground  in  Philippi,  and 
secured  for  its  advocates  the  protection  of  law. 

These  heroic  men  made  no  haste  to  leave  the  city.  Return- 
ing to  the  house  of  Lydia,  they  met  all  the  brethren  who  by 
their  instrumentality  had  been  led  to  embrace  the  religion  of 
Jesus,  and  addressed  them  in  farewell  words  of  solace  and 
rounsel.  Thus  far  it  appears,  from  the  form  of  the  narrative, 
that  Luke,  the  historian  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  had 
accompanied  the  brethren  on  this  missionary  excursion.  It  ia 
inferred  that  Luke  and  Timothy  remained  a  little  longer  in 
philippi,  and  that  Luke  did  not  rejoin  Paul  for  some  time. 

Paul  and  Silas  set  out  to  cross  the  mountains  to  Amphipo- 
Is,  a  city  about  thirty  miles  south-west  from  Philippi :  thence 
they  pressed  on  twenty-five  miles,  to  Apollonia;  and  thence 
thirty-two  miles  farther,  to  Thessalonica.  We  have  no  record 
how  long  they  stopped  at  the  two  first  places,  or  what  success 
attended  their  preaching  there.  In  this  important  seaport, 
the  most  populous  city  in  Macedonia,  Paul  and  Silas  remained 
for  some  time.  The  following  is  the  inspired  record  of  the 
commencement  of  Paul's  labors  there  :  — 


176  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

"  They  came  to  Thessalonica,  where  was  a  synagogue  of  the 
Jews  :  and  Paul,  as  his  manner  was,  went  in  unto  them,  and 
three  sabbath  days  reasoned  with  them  out  of  .he  scriptures, 
opening  and  alleging  that  Christ  must  needs  have  suffered, 
and  risen  again  from  the  dead ;  and  that  this  Jesus,  -Tv^hom  I 
preach  unto  you,  is  Christ." 

The  preachiug  of  Paul  and  Silas  in  Thessalonica  resulted 
in  the  conversion  of  many,  both  of  the  Jews  and  the  GentUes. 
It  is  recorded  that  among  tie  converts  there  were  numbered  "  of 
the  devout  Greeks  a  great  multitude,  and  of  the  chief  women 
not  a  few."  In  Paiil's  two  Epistles  to  the  Thessalonians,  we 
find  quite  a  minute  account  of  the  sentiments  which  he 
advanced  in  this  city.  The  spiritual  reign  of  Christ,  his 
second  coming  in  clouds  of  glory  with  his  holy  angeis,  and 
the  endless  happiness  which  his  disciples  would  then  inherit, 
were  the  themes  of  infinite  moment  which  inspired  his  fervid 
eloquence.  The  following  extract  from  one  of  his  letters, 
which  he  subsequently  wrote  to  the  Thessalonians  from  Cor- 
inth, will  show  the  manner  in  which  he  treated  such  themes. 
Speaking  of  the  second  coming  of  Jesus  in  the  day  of  his 
exaltation,  he  wrote,  — 

"  But  I  would  not  have  you  to  be  ignorant,  brethren,  con- 
cerning them  which  are  asleep,  that  ye  sorrow  not,  even  as 
others  which  have  no  hope.  For  if  we  believe  that  Jesus  died 
and  rose  again,  even  so  them  also  which  sleep  in  Jesus  will 
God  bring  with  him.  For  this  we  say  unto  you  by  the  word 
of  the  Lord,  that  we  which  are  alive  and  remain  unto  the 
coming  of  the  Lord  shall  not  prevent  them  which  are  asleep. 
For  the  Lord  himself  shall  descend  from  heaven  with  a  shout, 
with  the  voice  of  the  archangel,  and  with  the  trump  of  God , 
and  the  dead  in  Christ  shall  rise  first :  then  we  which  are 
alive  and  remain  shall  be  caught  up  together  with  them  in  the 
clouds  to  meet  the  Lord  in  the  air ;  and  so  shall  we  ever  be 
with  the  Lord."  ^ 

This  graphic  account  of  the  sublime  scenes  to  be  witnessed 
at  the  second  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  agitated  the  church 

1  I  Thess.  iv.  13-17. 


MISSIONARY  ADVENTURES.  177 

iQ  Thessalonica,  as  the  Christians  there  supposed  that  the 
coming  of  Jesus  was  to  be  hourly  expected.  This  led  Paul 
to  write  another  letter,  in  which  he  corrected  that  error.  In 
this  he  wrote,  — 

"Now,  we  beseech  you,  brethren,  by  the  coming  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  by  our  gathering-together  unto  him,  that  ye 
be  not  soon  shaken  in  mind,  or  be  troubled,  neither  by  spirit, 
nor  by  word,  nor  by  letter  as  from  us,  as  that  the  day  of 
Christ  is  at  hand.  Let  no  man  deceive  you  by  any  means ; 
for  that  day  shall  not  come  except  there  come  a  falling-away 
first,  and  that  man  of  sin  be  revealed,  the  son  of  perdition ; 
who  opposeth  and  exalteth  himself  above  all  that  is  called 
God,  or  that  is  worshipped ;  so  that  he  as  God  sitteth  in  the 
temple  of  God,  showing  himself  that  he  is  God."  ^ 

Who  the  "  man  of  sin  "  is  remains  an  undecided  question. 
The  Protestants  have  generally  applied  the  words  to  the  Pope 
of  Rome.  It  will  be  remembered,  that  when  Jesus  took  his 
final  departure  from  his  disciples,  ascending  into  the  skies  in 
bodily  presence  before  them  from  Mount  Olivet,  two  angels 
appeared  to  them,  and  said,  — 

"  Ye  men  of  Galilee,  why  stand  ye  gazing  up  into  heaven  ? 
This  same  Jesus,  which  is  taken  up  from  you  into  heaven, 
shall  so  come  in  like  manner  as  ye  have  seen  him  go  into 
heaven."  ^ 

The  second  coming  of  Christ,  to  reap  the  fruits  of  his 
humiliation  and  his  atoning  sacrifice  in  the  establishment  of 
his  spiritual  kingdom,  was  a  prominent  theme  in  the  teach- 
ing both  of  Christ  and  his  apostles.  The  language  of  Peter 
upon  this  subject  unfolds,  indeed,  a  scene  of  wonderful  sub- 
limity :  — 

"  This  second  epistle,  beloved,  I  now  write  unto  you,  in 
both  which  I  stir  up  your  pure  minds  by  way  of  remembrance ; 
that  ye  may  be  mindful  of  the  words  which  were  spoken  before 
by  the  holy  prophets,  and  of  the  commandment  of  us  the  apos- 
tles of  the  Lord  and  Saviour :  knowing  this  first,  that  there 
Bhall  come  in  the  last  days  scoffers,  walking  after  their  owx 

1  2  Thess.  ii.  1-4.  s  Acts  i.  U. 

.2 


178  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

lusts,  and  saying,  Where  is  the  promise  of  his  coming?  for, 
since  the  fathers  fell  asleep,  all  things  continue  as  they  wre 
from  the  beginning  of  the  creation. 

"  For  this  they  willingly  are  ignorant  of,  that  by  the  word 
of  God  the  heavens  were  of  old,  and  the  earth  standing  out 
of  the  water  and  in  the  water ;  whereby  the  world  that  then 
was,  being  overflowed  with  water,  perished ;  but  the  heavens 
and  the  earth,  which  are  now,  by  the  same  word  are  kept  in 
Btore,  reserved  unto  fire  against  the  day  of  judgment  and  per- 
dition of  ungodly  men. 

"  But,  beloved,  be  not  ignorant  of  this  one  thing,  that  ore 
day  is  with  the  Lord  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a  thcusand 
years  as  one  day.  The  Lord  is  not  slack  concerning  hia 
promise  as  some  men  count  slackness,  but  is  long-suffering  to 
US-ward,  not  willing  that  any  should  perish,  but  that  all  should 
come  to  repentance.  But  the  day  of  the  Lord  will  come  as  a 
thief  in  the  night ;  in  the  which  the  heavens  shall  pass  away 
with  a  great  noise,  and  the  elements  shall  melt  with  fervent 
heat ;  the  earth  also,  and  the  works  that  are  therein,  shall  be 
burned  up. 

"  Seeing,  then,  that  all  these  things  shall  be  dissolved,  what 
manner  of  persons  ought  ye  to  be  in  all  holy  conversation 
and  godliness,  looking  for  and  hasting  unto  the  coming  of 
the  day  of  God,  wherein  the  heavens,  being  on  fire,  shall  be 
dissolved,  and  the  elements  shall  melt  with  fervent  heat? 
Nevertheless,  we,  according  to  his  promise,  look  for  new 
heavens  and  a  new  earth,  wherein  dwelleth  righteousness."  '^ 

These  emphatic  announcements,  that  the  Lord  Jesus,  who 
had  risen  from  the  grave  and  ascended  to  heaven,  would  come 
again  in  glory  with  an  angelic  retinue  to  establish  an  evei- 
lasting  kingdom,  were  interpreted  by  hostile  or  careless  hearers 
to  intimate  that  the  Christians  had  designs  against  the  Roman 
government,  which  they  intended  by  revolution  to  overthrow ; 
that  they  intended  to  establish  the  throne  of  Jesus  upon  the 
niins  of  the  throne  of  Caesar.  This  charge  was  brought 
against  Jesus,  notwithstanding  his  reiterated  declaration, 
"  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world.* 

1  2  Pet.  ul.  1-13. 


MISSIONARY  ADVENTURES.  179 

The  enemies  of  Paul  and  Silas  took  advantage  of  this  mis- 
representation to  accuse  them  of  treason  against  the  Roman 
government.     The  record  is  as  follows :  — 

"  But  the  Jews  which  believed  not,  moved  with  envy,  took 
unto  them  certain  lewd  fellows  of  the  baser  sort,  and  gathered 
a  company,  and  set  all  the  city  on  an  uproar,  and  assaulted  the 
house  of  Jason,  and  sought  to  bring  them  out  to  the  people. 
And,  Avhen  they  found  them  not,  they  drew  Jason  and  certain 
brethren  unto  the  rulers  of  the  city,  crying,  These  that  have 
turned  the  world  upside  down  are  come  hither  also ;  whom 
Jason  hath  received :  and  these  all  do  contrary  to  the  decrees 
of  Caesar,  saying  that  there  is  another  king,  one  Jesus."  ' 

The  commotion  in  the  city  was  so  great,  and  the  peril  of 
mob  violence  so  imminent,  that  the  brethren  sent  Paul  and 
Silas  by  night  to  Berea,  an  interior  town,  about  sixty  miles 
south-west  of  Thessalonica.  In  this  small  rural  city,  situated 
on  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Olympian  mountains,  Paul  found 
an  intelligent,  unprejudiced  people,  who  listened  gladly  to  the 
tidings  of  salvation  which  he  brought  them. 

"They  were  more  noble,"  writes  Luke,  "than  those  in 
Thessalonica,  in  that  they  received  the  word  with  all  readi- 
ness of  mind,  and  searched  the  scriptures  daily  whether  those 
things  were  so.  Therefore  many  of  them  believed ;  also  of 
honorable  women  which  were  Greeks,  and  of  men,  not  a  few."  * 

The  malignant  Jews  in  Thessalonica,  hearing  of  Paul's  suc- 
cess in  Berea,  sent  some  of  their  number  to  rouse  the  mob 
there  against  him.  Paul,  aware  that  he  could  hope  to  accom- 
plish but  little  amidst  scenes  of  popular  clamor  and  violence, 
quietly  withdrew.  He,  however,  left  Silas  and  Timothy 
behind  :  they,  being  less  i)rominent,  would  not  so  much  attract 
the  attention  of  the  jjopulace. 

Aided  by  the  bretliren  of  Berea,  Paul  repaired  to  the  sea- 
coast,  where  he  embarked  for  the  city  of  Athens.  Coasting 
along  the  western  shore  of  the  Island  of  Euboea,  a  distance  of 
ninety  miles,  they  came  to  Cape  Colonna,  the  southern  extrem- 
ity of  Attica.    Here,  on  Sunium's  high  promontory,  stood  the 

'  Acta  xvii.  5-7.  "^  Acts  xvii.  11,  12. 


180  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

temple  of  Minerva,  a  landmark  to  the  Greek  sailors.  The 
eminence  is  still  crowned  with  the  ruins  of  its  white  columns. 

Rounding  this  cape,  the  navigator  soon  came  in  sight  of  the 
splendid  city  of  Athens,  "huilt  nobly  on  the  ^gean  shore,  the 
eye  of  Greece,  the  mother  of  arts  and  eloquence."  ^  Idolatrous 
shrines  crowned  every  height,  and  gorgeous  temples  for  the 
worship  of  false  gods  were  found  in  all  the  streets.  Athens 
was  probably  by  far  the  most  renowned  city  Paul  had  yet  en- 
tered ;  and  it  embraced  a  large  class  of  poets,  philosophers,  and 
men  of  literary  leisure.  "All  the  Athenians,  and  strangers 
which  were  there,  spent  their  time  in  nothing  else  but  either 
to  tell  or  to  hear  some  new  thing." 

The  statues  to  the  gods  were  so  numerous,  that  Petronius, 
a  Roman  satirist,  declared  that  it  was  easier  to  find  a  go), 
than  a  man  in  Athens.  The  spirit  of  Paul  was  roused  as 
never  before  in  seeing  this  great  city  so  entirely  surrendered 
to  idolatry.  In  the  synagogue  of  the  Jews,  and  daily  ,n 
the  market-place,  and  from  house  to  house,  as  he  could  find 
persons  to  listen  to  him,  he  proclaimed  the  religion  of  Jesus. 
His  earnestness,  and  the  power  of  his  eloquent  words,  soon 
arrested  general  attention.  Some  of  the  proud  philosophers 
turned  contemptuously  from  him,  calling  him  a  "  babbler : " 
others  had  their  curiosity  excited,  and  wished  to  hear  more, 
saying,  "  He  seemeth  to  be  a  setter-forth  of  strange  gods, 
because,"  adds  Luke,  "  he  preached  unto  them  Jesus  and  the 
resurrection."  ^ 

There  was  at  Athens  a  renowned  eminence,  called  Mars' 
Hill,  upon  whose  summit  was  reared  one  of  the  most  majestic 
buildings  of  ancient  or  modern  days,  called  the  Acropolis. 
Here  the  court  of  the  Areopagus,  the  most  solemn  of  the 
Grecian  courts,  held  its  sessions.  Here  Paul  was  taken  by 
the  Athenians  to  expound  to  them  his  doctrine.  Never  had 
he  addressed  such  an  audience  before.  Apparently  never 
before,  since  he  became  a  disciple  of  Jesus,  had  he  encountered 
an  hour  to  be  fraught  with  more  momentous  consequences. 
The  sacred  historian  has  given  us  his  address,  or  an  abstract 

*  Faradise  Regaine*  Acts  -^vii  ^3 


MISSIONARY  ADVENTURES.  181 

of  it,  upon  this  occasion.  In  its  appropriateness  to  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  case,  it  is  universally  regarded  as  unsur- 
j)as8ed  in  the  records  of  human  eloquence :  — 

"  Ye  men  of  Athens,  I  perceive  that  in  all  things  ye  are  too 
superstitious  ;  ^  for  as  I  passed  by,  and  beheld  your  devotions,  I 
found  an  altar  with  this  inscription.  To  the  Unknown  God. 
Whom,  therefore,  ye  ignorantly  worship,  him  declare  I  unto 
you.  God  that  made  the  world  and  all  things  therein,  seeing 
tha'-  he  is  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  dwelleth  not  in  temples 
made  with  hands ;  neither  is  worshipped  with  men's  hands,  as 
though  he  needed  any  taing,  seeing  he  giveth  to  all  life  and 
breath  and  all  things ;  and  hath  made  of  one  blood  all  nations 
of  men  for  to  dwell  on  all  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  hati  deter- 
mined the  times  before  appointed,  and  the  bounds  of  their- 
habitation ;  that  they  should  seek  the  Lord,  if  haply  they 
might  feel  after  him  and  £nd  him,  though  he  be  not  far  from 
every  one  of  us. 

*'  For  in  him  we  li^e  and  move,  and  have  our  being ;  as 
certain  also  of  your  own  poets  have  said.  For  we  are  also  his 
offspring.  Forasmuch,  then^  as  we  are  the  oflfepring  of  God, 
we  ought  not  to  think  that  the  Godhead  is  like  unto  gold  or 
silver  or  stone,  graven  by  art  and  man's  device.  And  the 
times  of  this  ignorance  God  winked  at,  but  now  commandeth 
all  men  everywhere  to  repent ;  because  he  hath  appointed  a 
day  in  the  which  he  will  judge  the  world  in  righteousness  by 
that  man  whom  he  hath  ordained ;  whereof  he  hath  given 
assurance  unto  all  men,  in  that  he  hath  raised  him  from  the 
dead."  ^ 

The  results  of  this  address  upon  the  minds  of  those  who 
listened  were  various.  Some  of  the  philosophers,  when  they 
heard  of  tlie  resurrection  of  the  dead,  "  mocked."  Many  of  the 
Jewa  were  probably  irritated  at  the  suggestion  that  Jews  and 
Gentiles  were  to  be  placed  on  an  equality.  Others,  more 
respectful,  withdrew,  simply  saying,  "  We  will  hear  thee  again 

*  Too  superstitious. — The  meaning  of  the  words  thus  translated  would  be  bett«J 
conveyed  to  us  by  the  phrase,  "  More  than  others,  ye  reverence  the  deities." 

*  Acts  xvii.  22-31. 


182  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

of  this  matter."  This  was  probably  merely  a  polite  expres- 
sion of  indifference.  Paul  did  not  feel  sufficiently  encouraged 
to  prolong  his  labors  among  auditors  so  unpromising.  In  the 
synagogue,  and  in  the  streets,  Paul  had  been  preaching  to  the 
Athenians  "  Jesus  and  the  resurrection."  It  was  to  this  same 
theme,  the  burden  of  aU  his  teachings,  that  upon  Mars'  HiU 
he  so  skilfully  drew  the  attention  of  his  hearers. 

Paul  did  not  encounter  any  tumult  or  violence  in  Athens 
How  long  he  remained  there  cannot  now  be  known.  As  to 
the  results  of  his  labors,  we  are  informed  that  Dionysius,  a 
member  of  the  court  of  Areopagus,  and  a  woman  by  the  name 
of  Damaris,  with  some  others,  became  converts  to  Christianity. 

From  Athens  Paul  proceeded  to  Corinth,  the  commercial 
metropolis  of  Greece,  and  a  city  renowned  for  its  wealth,  its 
luxury,  and  its  wickedness.  Corinth  was  about  sixty  miles 
from  Athens,  in  a  direction  very  nearly  west.  Two  of  the 
exiled  Jews,  Aquila  and  his  wife  Priscilla,  whom  a  decree  of 
tne  Emperor  Claudius  had  expelled  from  Rome,  had  taken 
refuge  in  Corinth.  They  cordially  received  Paul,  and  he 
abode  with  them.  They  were  tent-makers  by  occupation ; 
making  tents,  then  in  great  demand,  of  cloth  woven  from 
goat's-hair.  Paul,  who  was  unwilling  to  be  burdensome  to 
any  one,  met  his  expenses  by  his  daily  or  rather  nightly  toU 
at  this  trade,  which  he  had  learned  in  his  early  youth.  After 
preaching  the  gospel  all  day,  we  can  see  him  in  the  evening 
diligently  aiding  Aquila  and  Priscilla  m  their  manual  labor. 

Soon  Silas  and  Timothy,  coming  from  Thessalonica,  joined 
Paul  in  Corinth.  As  he  witnessed  the  great  wickedness  of 
the  city,  his  spirit  was  stirred  within  him  to  an  unusual  de- 
gree. Earnestly  he  testified  to  the  degenerate  Jews  that 
Jesus  is  the  Christ.  But  the  Jews  would  not  receive  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  as  their  Messiah.  They  reviled  the  preacher  and 
his  gospel.     Luke  writes,  — 

"  And  when  they  opposed  themselves,  and  blasphemed,  he 
shook  his  raiment,  and  said  unto  them,  Your  blo'^d  be  upon 
your  own  heads :  I  am  clean :  from  henceforth  I  will  go  unto 
th«  Gentiles." 


MISSIONARY  ADVENTURES.  183 

He  thus  abandoned  the  synagogue ;  and  i**  ^eems  that  it  was 
necessary  for  him  to  leave  the  residence  of  his  Jewish  hosts, 
and  to  take  up  his  abode  with  a  Gentile  by  the  name  of  Justus. 
This  man  lived  near  the  synagogue,  and,  though  a  Greek,  had 
renounced  idolatry,  and  was  a  worshipper  of  the  true  God. 
Paul's  labors  among  the  Jews  had  not  been  entirely  in  vain : 
for  "  Crispus,  the  chief  ruler  of  the  synagogue,  believed  on  the 
Lord,  with  all  his  house ; "  and  Paul  in  person  baptized  him.^ 

Among  the  Gentiles  Paul's  success  was  very  great,  and 
converts  were  rapidly  multiplied.  The  rage  of  the  Jews  was 
such,  that  it  was  feared  that  Paul  would  encounter  personal 
violence ;  but  the  Lord  appeared  to  Paul  in  the  night  in  a 
vision,  and  said  to  him,  — 

"  Be  not  afraid,  but  speak,  and  hold  not  thy  peace  ;  for  I  am 
with  thee,  and  no  man  shall  set  on  thee  to  hurt  thee ;  for  I 
have  much  people  in  this  city," 

For  a  year  and  six  months  Paul  continued  in  Corinth,  preach- 
ing the  gospel.  It  was  from  that  city  that  he  wrote  his  two 
impressive  and  affectionate  letters  to  the  converts  in  Thessa- 
lonica.  An  easy,  good-natured  man,  by  the  name  of  Gallio,  wag 
at  that  time  governor  of  the  province  of  Achaia,  which  in- 
cluded the  whole  of  Southern  Greece.  Probably  the  conversion 
and  baptism  of  Crispus  exasperated  the  Jews  to  the  highest 
degree.  They  stirred  up  an  insurrection  in  the  streets ;  seized 
Paul,  and  with  clamor  and  tumult  dragged  him  before  the 
judgment-seat  of  Gallio.  But  the  charges  which  they  brought 
against  Paul  were  so  frivolous,  that  Gallio  drove  them  from  his 
presencfc,  declaring  that  he  would  be  no  judge  of  such  matters. 

The  Greeks  hated  the  Jews.  And  here,  for  the  first  time, 
we  have  the  remarkable  exhibition  of  the  populace  proceeding 
to  acts  of  violence  against  the  enemies  of  Paul.  According  to 
the  narrative  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  the  Greek  populace 
rushed  upon  Sosthenes,  the  ruler  of  the  Jewish  synagogue,  and 
severely  beat  him.  It  was  far  more  important  to  GaUio  that 
he  should  be  popular  among  the  Greeks  than  among  the  Jews : 
he  therefore,  with  characteristic  indifference,  left  Sosthenes  to 

»  1  Cor.  1.  14. 


184  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

his  fate.     After  this,  the  Jews  no  longer  attempted  to  molest 
Paul. 

He  remained  in  Corinth  "yet  a  good  while;"  but  we  hare 
no  record  of  the  amount  or  success  of  his  labors.  He  then 
bade  farewell  to  the  numerous  converts  whom  he  had  gathered 
in  Corinth,  and,  accompanied  by  Aquila  and  Priscilla,  embarked 
at  Cenchrea,  and,  leaving  the  shores  of  Greece  behind  him, 
crossed  the  ^gean  Sea,  a  distance  of  about  two  hundred  miles, 
and  landed  at  the  renowned  city  of  Ephesus,  in  Asia  Minor. 
In  the  record  of  this  event  it  is  written,  — 

"  He  then  took  leave  of  the  brethren,  and  sailed  thence  into 
Syria,  and  with  him  Priscilla  and  Aquila ;  having  shorn  his 
head  in  Cenchrea :  for  he  had  a  vow."  ^ 

The  structure  of  the  sentence  does  not  determine  whether  it 
was  Paul  or  Aquila  w^o  had  a'  vow  ;  neither  are  we  informed 
why  the  vow  was  taken.  Paul  apparently  entered  the  syna- 
gogue at  Ephesus  but  once,  when  he  reasoned  with  the  Jews, 
endeavoring  to  convince  them  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah ;  and, 
though  entreated  to  tarry  longer  with  them,  he  declined,  saying, 
"  I  must  by  all  means  keep  this  feast  ^  that  cometh  in  Jerusa- 
lem ;  but  I  wiU  return  again  unto  you." 

Sailing  from  Ephesus,  leaving  Aquila  and  Priscilla  behind 
him,  he  landed  at  Csesarea  in  Syria,  and  immediately  hastened 
up  to  Jerusalem  to  report  to  the  church  there  his  adventures 
in  the  long  and  momentous  excursion  he  had  made,  —  an 
excursion  which  occupied  a  little  over  two  years.  He  then  re- 
turned to  Antioch.    - 

*  AotB  zrili.  18.  *  Probably  the  Ft'  teoost, 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THS    CAPTIVE    IN    CHAINS. 


Tht.  Third  Missionary  Tour.  — Paul  at  Ephesus.  — The  Great  Tumult.  —  Tl.« 
Voyage  to  Greece.  —  Return  to  Asia  Minor  and  to  Jerusalem.  —  His  Reception 
at  Jerusalem.  —  His  Arrest,  and  the  Riot.  ~  Speech  to  the  Mob.  —  Paul  impris- 
oned.—Danger  of  Assassination.  —  Transferred  to  Caesarea.  —  His  Defence 
before  Festus  and  Agrippa.  —  The  Appeal  to  Caesar.  -  The  Voyage  to  Rome.  — 
The  SbiDwreck.  —  Continued  Captivity 


iii  now  enter  upon  Paul's  third  missionary  jour- 
ney through  the  interior  of  Asia  Minor.  How 
long  he  remained  in  Antioch  before  entering 
upon  this  tour,  or  what  exact  route  he  took 
through  Phrygia  and  Galatia,  we  do  not  know. 
<^  Timothy  probably  accompanied  him,  as  men- 
tion is  made  of  his  name  in  connection  with 
Paul's  stay  at  Ephesus.  All  the  record  we  have  of  this  jour- 
ney through  the  heart  of  Asia  Minor,  in  which  Paul  visited 
the  various  churches  which  he  had  established,  is  contained 
in  the  words,  "  He  departed,  and  went  over  all  the  country 
of  Galatia  and  Phrygia,  strengthening  all  the  disciples."  ^ 

Just  before  Paul's  arrival  at  Ephesus,  —  which  city  he  had 
promised  to  visit  again,  —  a  Jew  came  there,  by  the  name  of 
Apollos,  a  devout  man,  very  eloquent,  who  was  a  disciple  of 
John  the  Baptist ;  he  not  having  yet  received  the  fuller  reve- 
lation of  life  and  immortality  made  by  Jesus  Christ.  Aquila 
and  Priscilla,  listening  to  his  bold  and  fervid  addresses  in  the 
synagogue,   took   him,  and  explained  to   him   more   fully  the 

*  Acts  xviii.  23. 

185 


186  HISTORY  OF  CHRISIIANITT. 

^50spel  of  Jesus  as  it  had  been  expounded  to  them  by  Paul. 
Thus  instructed  in  the  "  glad  tidings,"  Apollos  went  to  Cor- 
inth with  letters  of  recommendation  to  the  brethren  there, 
where  "he  mightily  convinced  the  Jews,  and  that  pubhcly, 
showing  by  the  scriptures  that  Jesus  was  Christ."  ^ 

While  Apollos  was  preaching  at  Corinth,  Paul,  having 
traversed  the  mountainous  districts  of  Asia  Minor,  came  to 
Ephesus.  There  were  but  few  in  that  great  and  wicked  city 
who  had  any  true  conception  of  tJie  religion  of  Jesus.  There 
were  several,  who,  under  the  preaching  of  Apollos,  had  be- 
corde  disciples  of  John,  walking  in  the  comparatively  dim 
light  which  that  projjhet  had  revealed.  Eagerly  they  received 
the  fuller  illumination  which  Paul  brought  to  their  minds. 
Twelve  of  these  were  baptized  by  Paul  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord  Jesus :  then,  upon  his  laying  his  hands  upon  them, 
they  received  the  miraculous  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  '■'  and 
spake  with  tongues^  and  prophesied." 

For  three  months,  Paul  continued  earnestly  preaf  hing  in  the 
synagogue  "the  things  concerning  the  kingdom  of  God."  Suc- 
cess did  not  attend  his  labors :  on  the  contrary,  many  were 
hardened  by  them,  "  and  believed  not,  but  spake  evil  of  that 
way."  Paul,  disheartened,  withdrew  entirely  feom  the  syna- 
gogue, and,  taking  the  few  disciples  with  him,  established  an 
independent  church. 

A  man  named  Tyrannus,  a  school-teacher  who  was  either  a 
convert,  or  was  favorably  affected  towards  the  new  doctrine, 
opened  his  schoolroom  for  the  preaching  of  Paul.  In  that 
room,  and  from  house  to  house,  the  zealous  and  persevering 
apostle  preached,  for  the  space  of  two  years,  "repentance 
towards  God,  and  faith  towards  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  A 
large  church  was  organized.  Paul  himself,  and  other  disciples, 
made  many  excursions  into  the  surrounding  region,  "  so  that 
all  they  which  dwelt  in  Asia  heard  the  word  of  the  Lord 
Jesus,  both  Jews  and  Greeks."  *  Paul  still  continued  to  exer- 
cise miraculous  powers,  healing  the  sick,  and  casting  out  evil 
spirits.     Some  "  vagabond  Jews,"  witnessing  the  power  which 

1  Acts  xviii.  28.  Acts  nix.  .'0. 


THE  CAPTIVE  IN   CHAINS.  187 

the  name  of  Jesus  exerted,  undertook  to  exorcise  in  that 
sacri'd  name ;  but  the  demoniac,  exclaiming,  "  Jesus  I  know, 
and  Paul  I  know,  but  who  are  ye  ?  leaped  on  them,  and  over- 
came them,  and  prevailed  against  them,  so  that  they  fled  out 
of  that  house  naked  ana  vounded."  TrJs  so  alarmed  the 
professional  exorcists,  that  many  of  them  relinquished  their 
calling,  and  burned  their  books  of  sorcery,  though  they  were 
valued  at  about  eight  thousand  dollars.  *'  So  mightily,"  adds 
Luke,  "  grew  the  word  of  the  Lord,  and  prevailed." 

Paul  now  decided  to  visit  the  churches  in  Macedonia  and 
Achaia,  and  then  to  return  to  Jerusalem,  saying,  "  After  that, 
I  must  see  Rome  also."  Timothy,  and  another  disciple  by  the 
name  of  Erastus,  were  sent  before  him  to  announce  his  coming 
to  the  churches  in  Macedonia  and  Achaia. 

Just  before  Paul  left  Ephesus,  a  very  violent  and  not  un- 
natural tumult  arose  in  the  city.  Ephesus  was  renowned 
throughout  the  world  for  the  worship  of  the  goddess  Diana. 
The  temple,  erecter  at  the  head  of  the  harbor  for  the  idola- 
trous worship  of  this  goddess,  was  deemed,  in  its  magnifi- 
cence and  dazzling  beauty,  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world. 
It  was  a  common  saying,  "  The  sun  in  its  course  sees  nothing 
more  magnificent  than  Diana's  temple."  This  gorgeous  mar- 
ble shrine  of  idolatry  was  425  feet  long,  220  broad,  and  was 
embellished  by  127  columns,  each  60  feet  high.  The  Greek 
ladies  throughout  all  Achaia  and  Asia  lavished  their  treas- 
ures in  almost  incrusting  the  temple  with  precious  stones. 
It  was  one  of  the  principal  sources  of  revenue  to  the  city,  and 
of  employment  for  its  workmen,  to  construct  silver  statues  of 
the  goddess,  which  were  sold  in  immense  numbers  throughout 
all  the  pagan  world.  But  the  preaching  of  Paul  was  bring- 
ing idolatry  into  disrepute,  and  destroying  the  trade  in  idols. 

There  was  a  large  manufacturer  of  these  silver  shrines  in 
the  city,  by  the  name  of  Demetrius.  He  called  his  numerous 
workmen  together,  and  thus  addressed  them :  — 

"Sirs,  ye  know  that  by  this  craft  we  have  our  wealth. 
Moreover,  ye  see  and  hear,  that  not  alone  at  Ephesus,  but 
almost  throughout  all    Asia,  this   Paul   hath   persuaded   and 


188  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 

turned  away  much  people,  saying  that  they  be  no  gods  which 
are  made  with  hands  :  so  that  not  only  this  our  craft  irf  in 
danger  to  be  set  at  nought,  but  also  that  the  temple  of  the 
great  goddess  Diana  should  be  despised,  and  her  magnificence 
should  be  destroyed,  whom  all  Asia  and  the  world  worship- 
peth."  1 

These  inflammatory  words  roused  the  workmen  :  they  were 
repeated  through  all  the  shops  in  the  city.  A  gathering  mob 
began  to  surge  through  the  streets  with  clamor  and  threaten- 
iags.  The  one  continuous  cry  of  the  mob  was,  "  Great  is 
Diana  of  the  Ephesians  ! "  The  infuriated  populace  coming 
across  two  of  Paul's  companions  and  friends,  Gaius  and  Aris- 
tarchus,  seized  them,  and  dragged  them  into  the  theatre,  an 
immense  enclosure,  without  a  roof,  where  tiers  of  stone  seats 
rose  one  above  another,  affording  room  for  an  immense  as 
sembly. 

As  soon  as  the  news  reached  Paul,  the  intrepid  man  wished 
immediately  to  rush  into  the  theatre,  in  the  endeavor  to 
rescue  his  friends ;  but  even  the  officers  of  the  city  entreated 
him  not  thus  to  peril  his  life.  With  difficulty  they  dissuadea 
him  from  the  rash  and  hopeless  movement. 

The  tumult  in  the  theatre  was  fearful.  "  Some  cried  one 
thing,  and  some  another :  for  the  assembly  was  confused ;  and 
the  more  part  knew  not  wherefore  they  were  come  together." 
At  length  the  mayor  of  the  city,  an  officer  next  in  dignity  and 
authority  to  the  governor,  entered  the  city,  and  endeavored  tc 
allay  the  tumult.  Having  succeeded  in  obtaining  silence,  he 
addressed  the  mob  as  follows  :  — 

"  Ye  men  of  Ephesus,  what  man  is  oh  ere  that  knoweth  not 
that  the  city  of  the  Ephesians  is  a  worshipper  of  the  great 
goddess  Diana,  and  of  the  image  which  fell  down  from 
Jupiter?^  Seeing,  then,  that  these  things  cannot  be  spoken 
against,  ye  ought  to  be  quiet,  and  to  do  nothing  rashly.  For 
ye  have  brought  hither  these  men,  who  are  neither  robbers  of 
churches,  nor   yet  blasphemers  of  your  goddess.     Wherefore 

I  Acts  xix.  25-27. 

*  The  original  image  of  Diana  was  supposea  to  be  a  gift  from  heaven. 


THE  CAPTIVE  IN  CHAINS.  189 

if  Demetrius,  auud  ^liQ  craftsmen  wliicli  are  with  him,  have  a 
matter  against  any  man,  the  law  is  open,  and  there  are  depu- 
ties :  let  them  implead  one  another.  But,  if  ye  inquire  any 
thing  concerning  other  matters,^  it  shall  be  determined  in 
a  lawful  assembly.  For  we  are  in  danger  to  be  called  in 
question  for  this  day's  uproar,  there  being  no  cause  whereby 
we  may  give  an  account  of  this  concourse."  ^ 

Soon  after  this  Paul  assembled  the  disciples,  and  took  leave 
of  them,  in  preparation  for  his  journey  into  Greece.  From 
Ephesus  he  had  written  his  First  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians ; 
and  he  was  greatly  distressed  by  some  disorders  which  had 
crept  into  the  church  there.  We  have  no  record  of  the 
events  which  occurred  during  this  journey.  Sailing  across 
the  ^gean  Sea,  he  landed  first  in  Macedonia.  "  And  when 
he  had  gone  over  those  parts,  and  given  them  much  exhorta- 
tion, he  came  into  Greece,  and  there  abode  three  months." 
He  tarried  some  time  in  Philippi,  waiting  the  arrival  of  Titus : 
upon  his  arrival,  he  wrote  his  Second  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians. 

Accompanied  by  Titus,  Paul  went  to  Corinth,  where  he 
spent  some  time  endeavoring  to  correct  the  abuses  to  which 
we  have  referred.  While  at  Corinth,  he  wrote  his  Epistle  to 
the  Romans,  —  unquestionably  the  most  important  document 
which  ever  proceeded  from  a  human  mind. 

But  the  malignant  Jews  in  those  regions  still  thirsted  for 
his  blood.  As  they  lay  in  wait  for  him  to  kill  him  as  ho 
should  embark  for  Syria,  he  changed  his  route,  and  returned 
through  Macedonia  to  Philippi,  where  he  took  ship  for  Troas, 
on  the  Asiatic  coast ;  which  port  he  reached  after  a  sail  of  five 
days.  There  he  remained  a  week.  The  first  day  of  the  week, 
as  commemorating  the  resurrection  of  Jesus,  had  become, 
instead  of  the  seventh,  the  customary  day  for  the  assembling 
of  Christians.^ 

Paul,  as  he  was  the  next  day  to  leave  the  brethren  at 
Troas,  probably  never  in  this  world  to  meet  them  again,  con- 

1  Matters  beyond  the  jurisdiction  of  the  courts. 

2  Acts  xix.  35-40. 

»  See  John  xx.  26,  and  1  Cor.  xvl.  2. 


190  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIAN  ITT. 

fcinued  the  parting  service  until  midnight.  A  young  man 
named  Eutychus,  overcome  by  sleep,  fell  from  a  third-story 
window  to  the  ground,  and  was  taken  up  dead.  Paul  restored 
him  to  life.  He  then  continued  the  social  and  religious  ser- 
vices until  the  dawning  of  the  day.  The  ship  in  which  he 
was  to  embark  sailed  first  for  Assos,  a  small  seaport  about 
nine  miles  from  Troas  by  land,  and  more  than  twice  that 
distance  by  water. 

Paul  went  on  foot  to  Assos.  There  he  took  ship,  and, 
sailing  by  Chios,  Mitylene,  and  Samos,  passed  by  Ephesus,  and 
landed  at  Miletus,  an  important  commercial  city,  about  thirty 
miles  beyond  Ephesus.  He  sent  for  the  elders  of  the  church 
at  Ephesus,  and  there  took  leave  of  them  in  the  following 
affecting  address :  — 

"  Ye  know,  from  the  first  day  that  I  came  into  Asia,  after 
what  manner  I  have  been  with  you  at  all  seasons,  serving  the 
Lord  with  all  humility  of  mind,  and  with  many  tears,  and 
temptations  which  befell  me  by  the  lying-in- wait  of  the  Jewsj 
and  how  I  kept  back  nothing  that  was  profitable  unto  you,  but 
have  showed  you,  and  have  taught  you  publicly,  and  from  house 
to  house,  testifying  both  to  the  Jews,  and  also  to  the  Greeks, 
repentance  toward  God,  and  faith  toward  our  Lord  Jesua 
Christ. 

"And  now,  behold,  I  go  bound  in  the  spirit  unto  Jerusalem, 
not  knowing  the  things  that  shall  befall  me  there  ;  save  that 
the  Holy  Ghost  witnesseth  in  every  city,  saying  that  bonds 
and  afflictions  abide  me.  But  none  of  these  things  move  me, 
neither  count  I  my  life  dear  unto  myself,  so  that  I  might 
finish  my  course  with  joy,  and  the  ministry,  which  T  have 
received  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  to  testify  the  gospel  of  the  grace 
of  God. 

"  And  now,  behold,  I  know  that  ye  all,  among  whom  I  have 
gone  preaching  the  kingdom  of  God,  shall  see  my  face  no  more. 
Wherefore  I  take  you  to  record  this  day,  that  I  am  pure  from 
the  blood  of  all  men.  For  I  have  not  shunned  to  declare 
unto  you  all  the  counsel  of  God.  Take  heed,  therefore,  unto 
yourselves,  and  to  all  the  flock  over  the  which  the  Holy  Ghost 


THE  CAPTIVE  IN   CHAINS.  191 

hath  made  you  overseers,  to  feed  the  church  of  God,  which  he 
hath  purchased  with  his  own  blood.  For  I  know  this,  that  after 
my  departing  shall  grievous  wolves  enter  in  among  you,  not 
sparing  the  flock.  Also  of  your  own  selves  shall  men  arise, 
speaking  perverse  things,  to  draw  away  disciples  after  them, 
Therefore  watch,  and  remember,  that,  by  the  space  of  three 
years,  I  ceased  not  to  warn  every  one  night  and  day  with 
tears. 

"And  now,  brethren,  I  commend  you  to  God,  and  to  the 
word  of  his  grace,  which  is  able  to  build  you  up,  and  to  give 
you  an  inheritance  among  all  them  which  are  sanctified.  I 
have  coveted  no  man's  silver  or  gold  or  apparel.  Yea,  ye 
yourselves  know  that  these  hands  have  ministered  unto  my 
necessities,  and  to  them  that  were  with  me.  I  have  showed 
you  all  things,  how  that  so  laboring  ye  ought  to  support  the 
weak,  and  to  remember  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  how  he 
said,  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." 

Luke  adds,  "  And,  when  he  had  thus  spoken,  he  kneeled 
down,  and  prayed  with  them  all.  And  they  all  wept  sore,  and 
fell  on  Paul's  neck,  and  kissed  him ;  sorrowing  most  of  all  for 
the  words  which  he  spake,  that  they  shotdd  see  his  face  n<r 
more.     And  they  accompanied  him  unto  the  ship."  ^ 

Sailing  by  the  Islands  of  Coos  and  Rhodes,  without  stop- 
ping, they  landed  at  Patara,  a  small  seaport  in  the  province 
of  Lycia,  on  the  southern  coast  of  Asia  Minor.  Here  Paul 
took  another  vessel,  and  leaving  the  island  on  the  left,  after 
a  voyage  of  about  three  hundred  and  forty  miles,  landed  at 
Tyre,  in  Syria.  There  was  a  church  in  Tyre ;  and  Paul  re- 
mained with  the  Christians  there  a  week  while  the  ship  was 
discharging  its  cargo.  The  brethren,  conscious  of  the  danger 
he  would  encounter  in  Jerusalem,  urged  him  not  to  go  there ; 
but  Paul  was  fixed  in  his  purpose.  When  the  time  came  foi 
the  ship  to  sail  again,  the  brethren,  with  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren, accompanied  him  to  the  shore.  There,  upon  the  sandy 
beach,  they  knelt  down,  and  commended  the  heroic  and  be- 
loved apostle  to  the  protection  of  God.     From  Tyre  the  ship 

»  Acts  XX.  lS-38. 


192  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

sailed  along  the  coast  of  Syria  to  Ptolemais,  the  celebrated 
Jean  d'Acre  of  modern  history.  The  distance  between  the 
two  places  was  about  thirty  miles.  Here  Paul  was  again 
refreslied  by  the  society  of  the  disciples  whom  he  found  there, 
and  with  whom  he  remained  but  one  day. 

Pa\il  left  the  ship  at  Ptolemais,  and  continuing  the  journey 
by  land,  a  distance  of  thirty  or  forty  miles,  reached  Csesarea. 
Philip  the  evangelist — one  of  the  seren  deacons  chosen  by  the 
church  in  Jerusalem,  to  whom  we  have  been  before  introduced 
as  teaching  and  baptizing  the  eunuch  on  the  road  by  Gaza, 
towards  Egypt  —  resided  in  Caesarea.  His  family  consisted 
of  four  daughters,  who  were  very  earnest  Christians,  and  who 
were  endowed  with  the  prophetic  spirit.  Paul  remained  for 
several  days  the  guest  of  that  Christian  family. 

While  residing  there,  a  certain  prophet,  by  the  name  of 
Agabus, — the  same  who  had  previously  predicted  "that  there 
should  be  a  great  dearth  throughout  all  the  world,"  ^  —  came 
to  Csesarea.  Agabus,  using  the  imagery  of  action  so  common 
with  the  prophets,  took  Paul's  girdle,  bound  it  around  his  own 
hands  and  feet,  and  said,  — 

"  Thus  saith  the  Holy  Ghost :  So  shall  the  Jews  at  Jeru- 
salem bind  the  man  to  whom  this  girdle  belongs,  and  they 
shall  deliver  him  into  the  hands  of  the  Gentiles."  ^ 

The  Christian  friends  of  Paul  at  Csesarea,  when  they  heard 
this  prophetic  announcement,  entreated  him  with  the  most 
earnest  supplication,  and  even  with  tears,  not  to  go  up  to  Jeru- 
salem, and  thus  place  himself  at  the  mercy  of  these  cruel  and 
inveterate  foes.     But  Paul  replied,  — 

"  What  mean  ye  to  weep  and  to  break  mine  heart  ?  for  I 
am  ready  not  to  be  bound  only,  but  also  to  die  at  Jerusalem 
for  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus." 

Luke,  who  still  accompanied  Paul,  adds,  "And,  when  he 
would  not  be  persuaded,  we  ceased,  saying.  The  will  of  the 
Lord  ba  done." 

Paul,  with  the  companions  who  had  attended  him  from 
Macedonia,  and  accompanied  by  several  Christians  from  Caesa- 

»  Acts  xi.  28-  »  Acts  xxi.  11. 


THE  CAPTIVE  IN  CHAINS.  193 

rea,  went  up  to  Jerusalem,  and  took  up  his  residence  at  the 
house  of  Mnason,  one  of  the  early  converts  to  Christianity. 

Thus  we  have  accompanied  Paul  on  his  last  recorded  jour- 
ney to  Jerusalem.  It  was  a  journey  full  of  incident ;  and  it 
is  related  more  minutely  than  any  other  portion  of  his  travels. 
We  know  all  the  places  by  which  he  passed,  or  at  which  he 
staid;  and  we  are  able  to  connect  them  all  with  familiar 
recollections  of  history.  "We  know^  too,  all  the  aspects  of  the 
scenery.  He  sailed  along  those  coasts  of  Western  Asia,  and 
among  those  famous  islands,  the  beauty  of  which  is  proverbial. 
The  very  time  of  the  year  is  known  to  us :  it  was  when  the 
advancing  season  was  clothing  every  low  shore  and  the  edge 
of  every  broken  cliff  with  a  beautiful  and  refreshing  verdure ; 
when  the  winter  storms  had  ceased  to  be  dangerous,  and  the 
small  vessels  could  ply  safely  in  shade  and  sunshine  between 
the  neighboring  ports.  Even  the  state  of  the  weather  and 
the  direction  of  the  wind  are  known. 

We  can  poini  to  the  places  on  the  map  where  the  vessel 
anchored  for  the  night,  and  trace  across  the  chart  the  track 
that  was  followed  when  the  moon  was  full.  Yet  more  than 
this :  we  are  made  fully  aware  of  the  state  of  the  apostle's 
mind,  and  of  the  burdened  feeling  under  which  this  jovirney 
was  accomplished.  The  expression  of  this  feeling  strikes  us 
the  more  from  its  contrast  with  all  the  outward  circumstances 
of  the  voyage.  He  sailed  in  the  finest  season,  by  the  bright- 
est coasts,  and  in  the  fairest  weather ;  and  yet  his  mind  was 
occupied  with  forebodings  of  evil  from  first  to  last,  so  that 
a  peculiar  shade  of  sadness  is  thrown  over  the  whole  narra- 
tion.^ 

Paul,  like  his  divine  Master,  was  "  a  man  of  sorrows,  and 
acquainted  with  grief."  The  sins  and  sufferings  of  humanity 
oppressed  his  soul.  Throughout  all  his  epistles,  we  see  in- 
dications of  the  pensive  spirit  with  which  he  regarded  '^he 
sublime  and  awful  tragedy  of  time  and  sin. 

Upon  the  arrival  of  the  apostle  in  Jerusalem,  he  was  very 
cordially  received  by  the  brethren.     Knowing  that  he  had 

»  Life,  1  imes,  and  Travels  of  St.  Paul,  Conybeare  and  Howson,  vol.  ii.  p.  235. 
IS 


194  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

many  enemies  even  among  tlie  Christians  there,  who  demanded 
that  the  Gentile  converts  should  be  brought  into  subjection  to 
all  the  rites  of  Judaism,  his  dejected  spirit  must  have  been 
much  cheered  by  this  affectionate  greeting.  The  disciples 
in  Jerusalem,  consisting  of  converted  Jews  and  converted 
Gentiles,  now  counted  their  numbers  by  thousands.  They 
were  necessarily  divided  into  many  local  churches.  There 
was  an  immediate  gathering  of  the  pastors  of  these  churches 
to  hear  Paul's  report  of  the  success  of  his  extended  missionary 
tour.  James,  who  had  presided  at  the  general  council  held 
in  Jerusalem  several  years  before,  seems  also  to  have  presided 
at  this  meeting.  Paul  "  declared  particularly  what  things 
God  had  wrought  among  the  Gentiles  by  his  ministry."  The 
majority  were  very  favorably  impressed  by  his  address,  and 
"  glorified  the  Lord."     They,  however,  said  to  him,  — 

"  Thou  seest,  brother,  how  many  thousands  of  Jews  there 
are  which  believe  ;  and  they  are  al.  zealous  of  the  law :  and 
they  are  informed  of  thee,  that  thou  teachest  all  the  Jews 
which  are  among  the  Gentiles  to  forsake  Mosee.  saying  that 
they  ought  not  to  circumcise  their  children,  neither  to  walk 
after  the  customs." 

They  therefore  urged,  that  as  it  was  impossible  but  that 
his  arrival  should  be  known,  and  that  it  would  call  the  Chris- 
tians together  to  hear  from  him,  he  should  do  something  to 
refdte  these  calumnies,  and  disarm  hostility.  They  therefore 
suggested  that  he  should  take  charge  of  four  Jetvish  Christians 
who  were  under  a  vow,  accompany  them  to  the  temple,  and 
pay  for  them  the  necessary  charges.  This  would  prove  that 
Paul,  Eo  far  as  the  Jews  were  concerned,  still  respected  the 
law  of  Moses.  As  to  the  Gentile  converts,  they  reiterated  the 
advice  given  by  the  council.  Paul,  who  had  laid  it  down 
as  his  principle,  that  to  the  Jew  he  would  become  a  Jew,  and 
to  the  Gentile  a  Gentile,  that  he  might  win  all  to  Christ, 
accepted  this  suggestion.  He  was  ready  to  accept  or  reject 
mere  outward  observances  as  expediency  might  dictate.  In  his 
view,  circumcision  was  nothing,  and  uncircumcision  nothing, 
but  faith  that  worketh  by  love. 


THE   CAPTIVE  IN  CHAINS.  19? 

The  next  day  was  the  great  feast  of  Pentecost.  Jerusalem 
was  crowded  with  Jews  from  all  parts  of  Syria,  and  even  froai 
remoter  lands.  Those  who  had  already  persecuted  Paul  on  hia 
missionary  tour  were  tliere,  ready  to  renew  their  violence. 
When  Paul  entered  the  temple  with  the  men  who  had  taken 
the  vow,  they  sprang  upon  him,  seized  him,  and  cried  out,  — 

"  Men  of  Israel,  help !  This  is  the  man  that  teacheth  all 
men  everywhere  against  the  people,  and  the  law,  and  this 
place ;  and,  further,  brought  Greeks  also  into  the  ternple, 
and  hath  polluted  this  holy  place."  ^ 

A  terrible  mob  was  at  once  excited  among  the  fanatic  Jews. 
They  seized  Paul,  dragged  him  out  of  the  temple,  s^Ol  were 
about  to  kiU  him  in  the  streets,  when  the  chief  captain  in 
command  of  the  Roman  garrison  heard  of  the  uproar.  Pla- 
cing himself  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  soldiers,  he  assailed  the 
mob,  rescued  Paul,  chained  him  by  each  wrist  to  a  soldier, 
and  then  inquired  what  he  had  done  that  they  were  thus 
beating  him.  The  tumult  and  uproar  were  such,  "  some  cry- 
ing one  thing,  and  some  another,"  that  no  definite  charge  could 
be  heard. 

The  captain,  Claudius  Lysias,  supposing  Paul  to  be  a  re- 
nowned Egyptian  rebel  and  a  guilty  disturber  of  the  peace, 
ordered  his  prisoner  to  be  led  to  the  barracks  within  the  for- 
tress. The  crowd  followed,  shouting,  "Away  with  him  !"  The 
pressure  of  the  throng  was  so  great,  that,  when  they  reached 
the  great  staircase  leading  up  into  the  castled  fortress,  Paul 
was  borne  by  the  soldiers  up  the  steps.  When  the  prisoner 
reached  the  top  of  the  stairs,  whence  he  had  a  clear  view  of 
the  angry,  surging  mob  below,  he  turned  to  Lysias,  and,  ad- 
dressing him  in  Greek,  inquired,  "  May  I  speak  unto  thee  ?  " 
Lysias  was  astonished  to  hear  him  speak  in  Greek,  and 
Baid,  — 

"Art  thou  not  that  Egyptian  which  before  these  days 
madest  an  uproar,  and  leddest  out  into  the  wilderness  four 
thousand  men  that  were  murderers  ?  " 

Paul  replied,  "  I  am  a  man  which  am  a  Jew  of  Tarsus,  a 

1  Acts  xxi.  28. 


196  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

city  in  Cilicia,  a  citizen  of  no  mean  city ;  and,  I  beseech  thee, 
suffer  me  to  speak  unto  the  people." 

Obtaining  permission,  he  waved  his  hand  to  obtain  silence, 
and  then,  addressing  the  Jewish  multitude  in  the  Hebrew  lan- 
guage, gave  them  quite  a  minute  account  of  his  past  history, 
his  persecution  of  the  Christians,  and  his  miraculous  convert 
sion  to  that  faith  which  he  once  endeavored  to  destroy.  But, 
when  he  annoimced  that  the  Lord  Jesus  had  said  to  him, 
" Depart,  for  I  will  send  thee  far  hence  unto  the  Gentiles" 
the  rage  of  the  fanatic  Jews  was  roused  to  the  highest  pitch. 
With  united  voice  they  cried  out,  — 

"  Away  with  such  a  fellow  from  the  earth  !  it  is  not  fit  that 
he  should  live." 

As  they  were  shouting  and  gesticulating  with  the  most  vio- 
lent expressions  of  ferocity,  Lysias  ordered  him  to  be  led  into 
the  fortress,  and,  in  accordance  with  the  infamous  practice 
of  the  times,  to  be  examined  by  scourging,  to  see  what  confes- 
sion bodily  agony  would  thus  extort  from  him.  As  they  were 
binding  him  to  the  whipping-post,  Paul  said  to  the  centurion 
who  was  superintending  the  operation,  — 

"  Is  it  lawful  for  you  to  scourge  a  man  that  is  a  Roman,  and 
uncondemned  ?  " 

Tbe  remark  was  immediately  reported  to  Lysias.  He,  upon 
questioning  Paul,  ordered  him  to  be  unbound ;  and  the  heroic 
prisoner  passed  the  night  in  one  of  the  cells  of  the  fortress. 
The  next  day,  Lysias  summoned  a  council  of  the  chief  priests, 
and  brought  Paul  before  them,  that  he  might  learn  of  him  of 
what  crimes  he  was  accused.  He  was  put  upon  his  defence 
without  any  charge  being  brought  against  him.  Ananias,  the 
high  priest,  a  brutal  wretch,  presided.  As  Paul,  commencing 
his  defence,  modestly  said,  "  Men  and  brethren,  I  have  lived  in 
all  good  conscience  before  God  until  this  day,"  the  infamous 
judge  was  so  enraged,  that  he  ordered  those  standir  g  near  to 
smite  him  on.  the  mouth. 

Saint  as  Paul  was,  this  brutal  outrage  roused  his  indigna- 
tion ;  and  he  exclaimed,  *'  God  shall  smite  thee,  thou  whited 
wall ;  for  sittest  thou  to  judge  me  after  the  law,  and  com- 
mandest  me  to  be  smitten  contrary  to  the  law  ?  " 


THE  CAPTIVE  IN   CHAINS.  197 

Some  one  who  stood  by  said,  "Revilest  thou  the  high 
priest  ?  " 

Paul,  at  once  restored  to  self-possession,  replied,  "  I  wist  not, 
brethren,  that  he  was  the  high  priest ;  for  it  is  written.  Thou 
shalt  not  speak  evil  of  the  ruler  of  thy  people." 

The  Jews  were  at  that  time  divided  into  two  highly  antago- 
nistic parties, — the  Pharisees  and  the  Sadducees.  The  Sad- 
ducees  did  not  believe  in  any  future  state,  or  in  any  spiritual 
existence.  They  said,  "  There  is  no  resurrection,  neither  angel 
nor  spirit."  The  Pharisees,  on  the  contrary,  believed  fully  in 
the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  in  a  future  life.  Paul  took 
advantage  of  this  division  of  sentiment  among  his  judges, 
and,  knowing  that  one  of  the  sources  of  the  bitter  hostility 
excited  against  him  was  that  he  taught  that  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth had  risen  from  the  grave,  continued  his  defence  by  say- 
ingj  — 

"  Men  and  brethren,  I  am  a  Pharisee,  the  son  of  a  Pharisee : 
of  the  hope  and  resurrection  of  the  dead  I  am  called  in 
question." 

This  caused  an  immediate  division  between  the  two  parties, 
and  arrayed  the  Pharisees  on  the  side  of  Paul.  They  said, 
"  We  find  no  evil  in  this  man ;  but,  if  a  spirit  or  an  angel 
hath  spoken  to  him,  let  us  not  fight  against  God."  The  dis- 
sension between  these  two  rival  sects  became  so  intense,  that 
they  almost  proceeded  to  blows.  "  The  chief  captain,  fearing 
lest  Paul  should  have  been  pulled  in  pieces  of  them,  com- 
manded the  soldiers  to  go  down  and  take  him  by  force  from 
among  them,  and  bring  him  into  the  castle." 

In  the  night,  the  Lord  Jesus  appeared  to  his  devoted  apos- 
tle, and  said  to  him,  "  Be  of  good  cheer,  Paul ;  for  as  thou 
hast  testified  of  me  in  Jerusalem,  so  must  thou  bear  witness 
also  at  Rome." 

Certain  of  the  Jews,  finding  it  difficult  to  crush  Paul  by 
processes  of  law,  entered  into  a  conspiracy,  binding  them- 
lelves  by  an  oath  not  to  eat  nor  drink  till  they  had  killed  him. 
There  were  forty  of  these  conspirators ;  and  they  were  so  as- 
sured of  the  sympathy  of  the  Jewish  rulers  in  thi?  endeavor, 


198  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY 

that  they  went  to  them,  informed  them  of  their  resolre,  and 
Bought  their  co-operation.  The  plan  which  they  proposed  to 
the  chief  priests  and  elders  was,  that  they  should  officially  ap- 
ply to  Claudius  Lysias  that  Paul  might  be  once  more  brought 
before  the  Jewish  court  for  farther  examination.  As  the  pris- 
oner was  being  conducted  from  the  fortress  to  the  court,  the 
assassins,  lying  in  wait,  would  fall  upon  him,  and  kill  him. 

A  nephew  of  Paul,  the  son  of  his  sister,  learned  of  this  con 
spiracy,  and,  obtaining  access  to  the  fortress,  informed  Paul 
of  his  peril.  Paul  sent  the  young  man  by  one  of  the  centu- 
rions to  communicate  the  intelligence  to  Lysias.  Thus  in- 
formed, Lysias  secretly  at  night  assembled  a  band  of  four 
hundred  Roman  soldiers  and  spearmen  and  seventy  cavalry 
to  escort  Paul  to  Csesarea,  and  place  him  under  the  control  of 
Felix,  the  governor  of  Judaea,  who  resided  in  that  city.  It 
was  a  journey  of  seventy-five  miles,  and  would  have  to  be 
taken  rapidly ;  and  therefore  more  than  one  horse  was  pro- 
vided for  Paul. 

The  escort  started  with  its  prisoner  at  nine  o'clock  at  night, 
and  took  with  them  the  following  letter  to  the  governor :  — 

"  Claudius  Lysias  unto  the  most  excellent  governor  Felix 
sendeth  greeting.  This  man  was  taken  of  the  Jews,  and 
should  have  been  killed  of  them;  then  came  I  with  an 
army  and  rescued  him,  ha,ving  understood  that  he  was  a 
Koman.  And,  when  I  would  have  known  the  cause  wherefore 
they  accused  him,  I  brought  him  forth  into  their  council ; 
whom  I  perceived  to  be  accused  of  questions  of  their  law,  but 
to  have  nothing  laid  to  his  charge  worthy  of  death  or  of 
bonds.  And,  when  it  was  told  me  how  that  the  Jews  laid 
wait  for  the  man,  I  sent  straightway  to  thee,  and  gave  com- 
mandment to  his  accusers  also  to  say  before  thee  what  they 
had  against  him.     Farewell." 

Marching  rapidly  with  their  prisoner,  the  escort  proceeded 
that  night  thirty-eight  miles,  as  far  as  Antipatris.     From  this 
point  the  foot-soldiers  returned  to  Jerusalem,  as  their  presence 
was  no  longer  needed  for  the  protection  of  Paul.     The  horse 
men  accompanied  Paul  the  remainder  of  the  way  to  Csesa^ea, 


THE  CAPTIVE  IN  CHAINS.  199 

and,  proceeding  directly  to  the  governor,  surrendered  to  him 
their  prisoner.  Felix  ordered  Paul  to  be  held  in  custody  in 
Herod's  palace,  which  was  the  official  residence  of  the  gov- 
ernor, until  his  accusers  should  come  from  Jerusalem. 

After  an  interval  of  five  days,  Ananias  the  high  priest,  with 
the  elders,  and  a  distinguished  orator  named  TertuAlus,  came 
to  Csesarea  to  prefer  their  charges  against  Paul  in  the  presence 
of  the  governor.  Tertullus  brought  forward  their  accusations 
in  the  following  address  to  Felix  :  — 

"  Seeing  that  by  thee  we  enjoy  great  quietness,  and  that 
very  worthy  deeds  are  done  unto  this  nation  by  thy  provi- 
dence, we  accept  it  always,  and  in  all  places,  most  noble  Felix, 
with  all  thankfulness.  Notwithstanding,  that  I  be  not  further 
tedious  unto  thee,  I  pray  thee  that  thou  wouldest  hear  us  of 
thy  clemency  a  few  words  :  for  we  have  found  this  man  a 
pestilent  fellow,  and  a  mover  of  sedition  among  all  the  Jews 
throughout  the  world,  and  a  ringleader  of  the  sect  of  the 
Nazarenes  ;  ^  who  also  hath  gone  about  to  profane  the  temple ; 
whom  we  took,  and  would  have  judged  according  to  our  law. 
But  the  chief  captain,  Lysias,  came  upon  us,  and  with  great 
violence  took  him  away  out  of  our  hands,  commanding  his 
accusers  to  come  unto  thee  ;  by  examining  of  whom  thyself 
mayest  take  knowledge  of  all  these  things  whereof  we  accuse 
him."  2 

Paul  was  then  called  upon  for  his  defence  against  these 
frivolous  charges.  It  was  as  follows  :  ''  Forasmuch  as  I  know 
that  thou  hast  been  of  many  years  a  judge  unto  this  nation,  I 
do  the  more  cheerfully  answer  for  myself ;  because  that  thou 
mayest  understand  that  there  are  yet  but  twelve  days  since  I 
went  up  to  Jerusalem  for  to  worship.  And  they  neither  found 
me  in  the  temple  disputing  with  any  man,  neither  raising  up 
the  people,  neither  in  the  synagogues,  nor  in  the  city;  neither 
can  they  prove  the  things  whereof  they  now  accuse  me. 

"But  this  I  confess  unto  thee,  that  after  the  way  which 
they  call  heresy,  so  worship  I  the  God  of  my  fathers,  believ- 

1  A  name  of  reproach  which  the  JewB  gave  the  Christian!. 
»  Acts  ixiv.  2-8. 


200  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

ing  all  things  which  are  written  in  the  law  and  in  the  prophets ; 
and  have  hope  toward  God  (which  they  themselves  also  allow) 
that  there  shall  he  a  resurrection  of  the  dead,  hoth  of  the  just 
and  unjust. 

"And  herein  do  I  exercise  myself,  to  have  always  a  con- 
science void  of  offence  toward  God  and  toward  men.  Now, 
after  many  years,  I  came  to  bring  alms  to  my  nation,  and 
offerings.  Whereupon  certain  Jews  from  Asia  found  me  puri- 
fied in  the  temple,  neither  with  multitude  nor  with  tumult. 
Who  ought  to  have  been  here  before  thee,  and  object,  if  they 
had  aughl,  against  me ;  or  else  let  these  same  here  say  if 
they  have  found  any  evil-doing  in  me  while  I  stood  before  the 
council,  except  it  be  for  this  one  voice,  that  I  cried,  standing 
among  them.  Torching  the  resurrection  of  the  dead  I  am 
called  in  question  by  you  this  day." 

Felix  had  been  governor  of  Judaea  for  six  years.  It  was 
now  nearly  thirty  years  since  the  death  of  Christ.  There  were 
numerous  bodies  of  Christians  in  churches  scattered  aU  over 
Palestine.  He  had  enjoyed  ample  opportunities  of  becom- 
ing acquainted  with  the  sentiments  of  the  Christians,  was  a 
thoughtful  man,  and  was  by  no  means  predisposed  to  treat 
Paul  with  severity.  He  therefore  placed  Paul  under  the  cus- 
tocy  of  a  centurion,  who  was  to  accompany  him  wherever  he 
went,  but  to  allow  him  perfect  liberty  and  free  access  to  his 
friends. 

It  would  seem  that  Drusilla,  the  wife  of  Pelix,  had  some 
curiosity  to  see  Paul ;  for,  after  a  few  days,  Pelix  and  Dru- 
silla (who  was  a  Jewess)  sent  for  Paul  to  come  to  the  palace, 
and  in  private  heard  him  "  concerning  the  faith  in  Christ." 
Luke  records,  — 

"And  as  he  reasoned  of  righteousness,  temperance,  and 
judgment  to  come,  Felix  trembled,  and  answered.  Go  thy  way 
for  this  time :  when  I  have  a  convenient  season,  I  will  call  for 
thee." 

"He  had  hoped  also,"  Luke  adds,  "that  money  should 
have  been  given  him  of  Paul,  that  he  might  loose  him :  wher©' 
fore  lie  sent  for  him  the  offcener,  and  communed  with  biaa  "  ' 

*  Acte  xxlv.  26. 


THE  CAPTIVE  IN  CHAINS.  201 

For  two  years,  Paul  was  held  a  prisoner  in  Caesarea.  How 
wonderful  that  God  should,  at  such  a  time,  have  allowed  such 
a  man  so  long  to  he  kept  in  comparative  silence !  He  was 
doubtless  active  in  the  service  of  his  Saviour  in  Caesarea  every 
hour  of  every  day ;  but  we  have  no  record  of  the  results  of 
those  labors.  At  length  Felix  was  summoned  to  Rome,  and 
was  supplanted  in  the  office  of  governor  by  Festus.  The  mal- 
ice of  the  Jewish  rulers  towards  Paul  continued  ui. abated; 
"  and  Felix,  willing  to  show  the  Jews  a  pleasure,  left  Paul 
bound."     This  was  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  60. 

Immediately  upon  the  arrival  of  the  new  governor  at  Caesa 
rea,  the  sleepless  hatred  of  the  Jews  made  a  fresh  attempt 
upon  the  life  of  Paul.  Three  days  after  Festus  landed  at 
Caesarea,  he  went  up  to  Jerusalem,  the  political  metropolis 
of  his  province.  Immediately  the  high  priest,  accompanied 
by  several  of  the  most  prominent  of  the  Jews,  appeared  be- 
fore Festus,  and  begged  that  Paul  might  be  sent  back  from 
Caesarea  to  Jerusalem  for  trial.  They  had  in  the  mean  time 
prepared  a  band  of  assassins  to  faU  upon  Paul  by  the  way, 
and  put  him  to  death. 

Festus  wisely  declined  placing  an  uncondemned  person  thus 
in  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  but  stated,  that,  as  he  was  about 
to  return  to  Caesarea,  they  could  send  his  accusers  there  with 
whatever  charges  they  had  to  prefer  against  him.  After  re- 
maining in  Jerusalem  about  ten  days,  Festus  returned  to 
Caesarea,  summoned  a  court  of  assistant  judges,  took  his  seat 
upon  the  judicial  tribunal,  and  ordered  Paul  to  be  brought 
before  him.  The  Jews  who  came  down  from  Jerusalem 
stood  round  about,  and  laid  many  and  grievous  complaints 
against  Paul,  which  they  could  not  prove.  It  would  seem, 
from  the  summary  which  is  given  of  Paul's  reply,  that  he 
was  charged  with  heresy,  sacrilege,  and  treason,  —  the  same 
charges  which  had  before  been  brought  against  him  by  Ter- 
tullus.  "  Neither  against  the  Jews,"  Paul  answered,  "  neither 
against  the  temple,  nor  yet  against  Caesar,  have  I  offended  any 
thing  at  all." 

Festus  was  anxious  to  conciliate  the  favor  of  the  Jews,  and 


202  HISTOhY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

suggested  that  Paul  should  go  up  to  Jerusalem,  there  to  be 
tried  before  a  tribuBal  over  which  he  himself  would  preside. 
Paul  knew  that  he  could  expect  no  justice  there,  and  that  he 
wa.s  in  danger  of  being  assassinated  by  the  way.  He  was  a 
Roman  citizen,  and,  as  such,  had  the  privilege  of  appealing 
to  Caesar  at  Rome.  This  was  his  last  resort.  He  therefore 
said,  — 

"I  stand  at  Caesar's  judgment-seat,  where  I  ought  to  be 
judged.  To  the  Jews  have  I  done  no  wrong,  as  thou  very 
well  tnowest.  For  if  I  be  an  offender,  or  have  committed  any 
thing  worthy  of  death,  I  refuse  not  to  die ;  but,  if  there  be 
none  of  these  things  whereof  these  accuse  me,  no  man  may 
deliver  me  unto  them.     I  appeal  unto  Caesar."  ^ 

Even  Festus  had  no  power  to  ignore  this  appeal.  By  those 
potent  words,  "  I  appeal  unto  Caesar,"  Paul  had  transferred  his 
cause  from  the  provincial  governor  to  the  emperor  at  Rome. 
Nothing  remained  for  Festus  but  to  send  Paul  to  Rome,  with 
aU  the  documents  bearing  upon  the  trial,  and  with  his  own 
official  report.  Festus,  however,  was  still  in  perplexity.  The 
charges  brought  against  Paul  were  so  extremely  frivolous,  that 
he  knew  not  what  statement  to  make.  He  was  ashamed  to 
send  a  prisoner  to  Rome  with  such  trivial  accusations ;  and  it 
seemed  to  him  "unreasonable  to  send  a  prisoner,  and  not 
withal  to  signify  the  crimes  laid  against  him." 

Festus  was  governor  of  the  smaU  province  of  Judaea.  Agrip- 
pa  was  king  of  the  whole  of  Syria,  of  which  Judaea  was  but 
one  of  the  provinces ;  and  he  also  included  within  his  realms 
other  dominions,  whose  limits  cannot  now  be  very  accurately 
defined.  It  so  happened,  that,  at  this  time,  Agrippa,  with  hia 
sister  Bemice,  paid  a  complimentary  visit  to  the  new  governor 
of  Judaea  at  Caesarea,  and  remained  with  Festus  several  days. 
He  was  a  Jew,  and  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  Jewish 
law.  Festus,  who  was  much  embarrassed  by  the  position  in 
which  he  found  himself  placed  in  reference  to  Paul,  consulted 
Agrippa  concerning  the  affair.  The  account  which  he  gave 
of  the  case  to  Agrippa  is  quite  curious. 

Acte  XXV.  10,  11 


THE  CAPTIVE  IN   CHAINS.  203 

"  There  is  a  certain  man,"  said  he,  "  left  in  bonds  by  Felix  ; 
about  whom,  when  I  was  at  Jerusalem,  the  chief  priests  and 
the  elders  of  the  Jews  informed  me,  desiring  to  have  judg- 
ment against  him.  To  whom  I  answered.  It  is  not  the  man- 
ner of  the  Romans  to  deliver  any  man  to  die  before  that  he 
which  is  accused  have  the  accusers  face  to  face,  and  have 
license  to  answer  for  himself  concerning  the  crime  laid  against 
him.  Therefore,  when  they  were  come  hither,  without  any 
delay  on  the  morrow  I  sat  on  the  judgment-seat,  and  com- 
manded the  man  to  be  brought  forth ;  against  whom,  when 
the  accusers  stood  up,  they  brought  none  accusation  of  sxich 
things  as  I  supposed,  but  had  certain  questions  against  him 
of  their  own  superstition,  and  of  one  Jesus,  which  was  dead, 
whom  Paul  affirmed  to  be  alive.  And,  because  I  doubted  of 
such  manner  of  questions,  I  asked  him  whether  he  would  go 
to  Jerusalem,  and  there  be  judged  of  these  matters ;  but, 
when  Paul  had  appealed  to  be  reserved  unto  the  hearing  of 
Augustus,  I  commanded  him  to  be  kept  till  I  might  send  him 
to  Caesar."  ^ 

The  curiosity  of  Agrippa  was  excited,  and  he  requested  that 
Paul  might  be  brought  before  him.  Accordingly,  the  next 
day,  the  king  and  his  sister,  with  great  pomp,  entered  the 
audience-chamber.  The  king  took  his  seat  in  the  judicial 
chair,  and  was  attended  by  a  brilliant  suite  of  military  offi- 
cers, and  of  the  most  distinguished  men  of  Caesarea.  Before 
this  august  assemblage  Paul  was  led.  In  the  following  cere- 
monious speech,  Festus  described  the  circumstances  under 
which  the  prisoner  had  been  left  in  his  charge  :  — 

"  King  Agrippa,  and  all  men  which  are  here  present  with  us, 
ye  see  this  man,  about  whom  all  the  multitude  of  the  Jews  have 
dealt  with  me,  both  at  Jerusalem  and  also  here,  crying  that  he 
ought  not  to  live  any  longer.  But  when  I  found  that  he  had 
committed  nothing  worthy  of  death,  and  that  he  himself  hath 
appealed  to  Augustus,  I  have  determined  to  send  him.  Of 
whom  I  have  no  certain  thing  to  write  unto  my  lord.     Where- 

1  Acts  xxT.  14-21,  Augustus  and  Caesar  were  the  titles  adopted  by  the  Komao 
emperors. 


204  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

fore  I  have  brought  him  forth  before  you,  and  specially  before 
thee,  0  King  Agrippa !  that,  after  examination  had,  I  might 
have  somewhat  to  write ;  for  it  seemeth  to  me  unreasonable 
to  send  a  prisoner,  and  not  withal  to  signify  the  crimes  laid 
against  him."  ^ 

Agrippa  then  condescendingly  said  to  the  prisoner  that  he 
was  permitted  to  speak  for  himself.  Paul  opened  his  defence 
with  the  following  words  :  — 

"I  think  myself  liappy,  King  Agrippa,  because  I  shaU 
answer  for  myself  this  day  before  thee  touching  all  the  things 
whereof  I  am  accused  of  the  Jews  ;  especially  because  I  know 
thee  to  be  expert  in  all  customs  and  questions  which  are  among 
the  Jews  :  wherefore  I  beseech  thee  to  hear  me  patiently." 

He  then  briefly  recounted  his  early  history,  narrating  in 
full  the  circumstances  which  attended  his  conversion  to  the 
religion  of  Jesus.  After  speaking  of  the  vision  which  ap- 
peared to  him  on  the  road  to  Damascus,  before  whose  brilliancy 
all  had  fallen  to  the  earth,  he  said,  — 

"  I  heard  a  voice  speaking  unto  me,  and  saying  in  the  He- 
brew tongue,  Saul,  Saul,  why  pers.ecutest  thou  me  ?  it  is  hard 
for  thee  to  kick  against  the  pricks.  And  I  said.  Who  art 
thou,  Lord  ?  And  he  said,  I  am  Jesus  whom  thou  persecutest. 
But  rise,  and  stand  upon  thy  feet ;  for  I  have  appeared  unto 
thee  for  this  purpose,  —  to  make  thee  a  minister  and  a  witness 
both  of  these  things  which  thou  hast  seen,  and  of  those  things 
in  the  which  I  will  appear  unto  thee  ;  delivering  thee  from  the 
people  and  from  the  Gentiles,  unto  whom  now  I  send  thee,  to 
open  their  eyes,  and  to  turn  them  from  darkness  to  light,  and 
from  the  power  of  Satan  unto  God,  that  they  may  receive  for- 
giveness of  sins,  and  inheritance  among  them  which  are  sancti- 
fied by  faith  that  is  in  me. 

"Whereupon,  0  K-ng  Agrippa!"  continued  Paul,  "I  was 
not  disobedient  unto  the  heavenly  vision  ;  but  showed  first 
unto  them  of  Damascus  and  at  Jerusalem,  and  throughout  all 
the  coasts  of  Judsea,  and  then  to  the  Gentiles,  that  they  should 
repent  and  turn  to  God,  and  do  works  meet  for  repentance. 

»  Acts  XXV.  24-27. 


THE   CAPTIVE  IN   CHAINS.  205 

"  For  these  causes  the  Jews  caught  me  in  the  temple,  and 
«^ent  ahout  to  kill  me.  Having,  therefore,  obtained  help  of 
God,  I  continue  unto  this  day,  witnessing  both  to  small  and 
great,  saying  none  other  things  than  those  which  the  prophets 
and  Moses  did  say  should  come,  —  that  Christ  should  su£"er, 
Mid  that  he  should  be  the  first  that  should  rise  from  the 
dead,  and  should  show  light  unto  the  people  and  to  the 
Gentiles." 

As  Paul  thus  alluded  to  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  he 
was  interrupted  in  his  discourse  by  Festus,  the  unbelieving 
Roman,  exclaiming  with  a  loud  voice,  — 

"  Paul,  thou  art  beside  thyself :  much  learning  doth  make 
thee  mad." 

Paul  turned  to  the  governor,  and  said  courteously,  "  I  am 
not  mad,  most  noble  Fe-stus,  but  speak  forth  the  words  of 
truth  and  soberness.  For  the  king  knoweth  of  these  things, 
before  whom  also  I  speak  freely ,  for  I  am  persuaded  that 
none  of  these  things  are  hidden  from  him." 

Then,  addressing  the  king  himself,  who,  as  we  have  said, 
was  a  Jew,  he  added,  "  King  Agrippa,  believest  thou  the 
prophets  ?     I  know  that  thou  believest." 

The  arguments  of  Paul  had  been  so  rational  and  irresisti- 
ble, that  Agrippa  seems  to  have  been  intellectually  convinced 
by  them  ;  for  he  thoughtfally  replied,  "  Almost  thou  persuadest 
me  to  be  a  Christian." 

Paul,  whose  heart  ever  glowed  with  Christian  love  for  all 
his  fellow-men,  answered,  "  I  would  to  God  that  not  only 
thou,  but  also  all  that  hear  me  this  day,  were  both  almost  and 
altogether  such  as  I  am,  except  these  bonds !  " 

This  terminated  the  interview.  Agrippa,  in  conferring  with 
his  council,  found  them  unanimously  of  the  opinion  that  Paul 
had  done  nothing  worthy  of  death  or  of  bonds.  He  therefore 
said  to  Festus,  ''This  man  might  have  been  set  at  liberty 
if  he  had  not  appealed  unto  Caesar."  But  it  was  now  too  late. 
Paul  had  made  his  appeal ;  and  nothing  remained  but  to 
send  him,  by  the  first  opportunity,  to  Rome.  There  was  a 
ship  in  port  from  Adramyttium  which  was  engaged  in  the 


206  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

coasting-trade,  and  which  was  to  touch  at  various  ports  in 
Asia  Minor. 

Paul,  with  two  companions,  —  Luke,  and  Axistarchus  from 
Thessalonica,  —  was  embarked  on  board  this  ship.  There  were 
othsr  prisoners  in  the  ship,  and  they  were  under  charge  of 
a  guard  of  soldiers,  with  Julius,  their  commanding-oificer. 
The  day  after  sailing,  they  touched  at  Sidon,  sixty-seven  miles 
north  from  Csesarea.  Julius  treated  his  prisoner  very  cour- 
teously ;  and,  as  there  was  a  church  in  this  place,  he  was 
allowed  to  go  ashore  "unto  his  friends  to  refresh  himself." 
Leaving  Sidon,  they  sailed  across  what  is  called  the  Sea  of 
Cilicia,  leaving  the  Island  of  Cyprus  on  their  left,  being  driven 
to  this  circuitous  route  by  contrary  winds,  till  they  reached 
the  city  of  Myra,  a  large  seaport  in  the  province  of  Lycia. 

At  Myra  they  found  a  ship  from  Alexandria  in  Egypt 
bound  for  Italy.  The  priscLers  were  placed  on  board  this 
ship,  which  must  have  been  one  of  considerable  size,  as  it 
conveyed,  with  crew  and  passengers,  two  hundred  and  seventy- 
six  souls.  Calms  and  head-winds  delayed  their  passage,  so 
that  it  was  "  many  days  "  before  they  reached  the  Island  of 
Cnidus,  which  was  but  a  hundred  and  thirty  miles  from 
Myra.  The  wind  and  the  current  still  opposing  them,  they, 
finding  themselves  unable  to  sail  directly  across  the  ^gean 
Sea,  ran  down  to  the  southward ;  and  having  doubled  Cape 
Salmone,  the  most  easterly  cape  of  the  Island  of  Crete,  they 
sailed  along  the  southern  coast  of  that  island,  sheltered  from 
the  north  winds,  a  distance  of  about  a  hundred  and  fifty 
miles,  until  they  came  to  a  celebrated  harbor,  or  roadstead, 
called  the  Fair  Havens.  There  was  no  settlement  here  upon 
the  shore  ;  but  the  city  of  Lasea  was  situated  a  few  miles  in- 
land. Winter  had  now  come ;  and  fierce  storms  swept  the 
Mediterranean,  rendering  navigation  quite  perilous.  Upon 
leaving  Myra,  they  had  hoped  to  reach  Italy  before  this  dan- 
gerous season  should  arrive ;  but  the  untoward  weather  had 
detained  them,  and  there  were  still  many  weary  leagues  of  a 
tempestuous  sea  to  be  passed  over  before  they  could  cast  anchor 
in  the  Tiber. 


THE  CAPTIVE  IN  CHAINS.  207 

The  question  was  anxiously  deliberated,  whether  they  should 
etill  brave  the  peril  of  the  seas.  Paul,  probably  speaking,  not 
by  inspiration,  but  from  his  own  natural  intelligence  and  cau- 
tion, warned  them,  that,  if  they  continued  their  voyage,  not 
only  would  the  safety  of  the  ship  be  imperilled,  but  also  the 
lires  of  all  on  board ;  but  as  the  present  anchorage  was  in- 
commodious to  winter  in,  and  there  was  no  other  good  harbor 
near,  it  was  decided,  notwithstanding  the  warning  of  Paul,  to 
continue  the  voyage. 

About  fifty  miles  west  of  the  Fair  Havens,  on  the  south- 
ern coast  of  the  Island  of  Crete,  was  the  seaport  of  Phenice. 
Some  who  had  been  there  spoke  of  that  harbor  as  a  safe  one, 
and  urged,  that,  at  all  hazards,  they  should  try  to  reach  Phe- 
nice, where  they  could  winter  if  it  were  deemed  expedient. 
Taking  advantage  of  a  gentle  south  wind,  they  were  sailing 
close  by  the  southern  shore  of  Crete,  when  suddenly  a  very 
fierce  tempest  arose  from  the  north-east,  — a  hurricane,  proba- 
bly such  as  is  now  called  a  Levanter,  but  then  called  Eurocly- 
don,  —  and  they  were  driven  helplessly  before  it,  in  hourly 
peril  of  being  ingulfed. 

About  forty  miles  off  the  southern  coast  of  Crete  was 
situated  the  small  Island  of  Clauda.  Under  the  lee  of  this 
island,  they  succeeded  with  great  difficulty  in  saving  the  small 
boat  which  was  attached  to  the  ship,  and  which  had  been  in 
g.<jat  peril  of  being  staved  to  pieces.  The  fury  of  the  wind 
ar-d  waves  was  such,  that  there  was  danger  that  the  over- 
strained planks  would  open  seams,  so  that  the  ship  woidd 
founder.  To  obviate  this  danger,  heavy  cables  were  passed 
around  the  ship,  slipping  them  over  the  bows,  and  tightening 
them  upon  deck,  so  as  to  bind  the  loosening  planks  together. 
Still  the  gale  was  driving  them  at  its  mercy  towards  the  coast 
of  Africa. 

Near  that  coast  there  were  two  dangerous  quicksands,  ever 
shifting  their  places  under  the  wash  of  the  surging  sea,  so  that 
their  position  could  never  be  laid  down  with  certainty  in  any 
chart.  The  storm  raged  with  increasing  fury  until  the  third 
day,  when  they  endeavored  to  lighten  the  ship  by  throwing 


208  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

over  a  portion  of  her  cargo.  Still  the  days  and  uighto  of  peril 
came  and  went.  Thick  clouds  darkened  the  sky.  Neither 
sun  nor  stars  were  visible.  All  reckoning  was  lost,  as  the 
shifting  gale  drove  them  they  knew  not  whither.  During  this 
terrible  tempest,  the  suffering  of  body  and  mind  was  such,  and 
the  labors  of  the  crew  so  incessant,  that  there  had  been  no 
opportunity  for  receiving  food.  All  now  seemed  to  have  sur- 
rendered themselves  to  despair.  The  opening  seams  indicated 
that  the  ship  must  soon  founder.  In  this  hour  of  extremity, 
Paul  said  to  the  officers,  — 

"Sirs,  ye  should  have  hearkened  unto  me,  and  not  have 
loosed  from  Crete,  and  to  have  gained  this  harm  and  loss. 
And  now  I  exhort  you  to  be  of  good  cheer  ;  for  there  shall  be 
no  loss  of  any  man's  life  among  you,  but  of  the  ship.  For 
there  stood  by  me  this  night  the  angel  of  God,  whose  I  am, 
and  whom  I  serve,  saying,  Fear  not,  Paul ;  thou  must  be 
brought  before  Caesar :  and,  lo,  God  hath  given  thee  all  them 
that  saU  with  thee.  Wherefore,  sirs,  be  of  good  cheer  ;  for  I 
believe  God,  that  it  shall  be  even  as  it  was  told  me.  Howbeit, 
we  must  be  cast  upon  a  certain  island."  ^ 

Fourteen  days  had  now  passed,  during  which  the  ship  had 
been  driven  hither  and  thither  over  the  foaming  billows  of  the 
Adriatic  Sea.  About  midnight  of  the  fourteenth,  the  sailors 
saw  some  indications  that  they  were  approaching  land,  — 
probably  by  the  roar  of  breakers,  which  a  practised  ear  will 
discern  even  amidst  the  wildest  tumult  of  a  storm.  Upon 
sounding,  they  found  twenty  fathoms  of  water.  Soon  sound- 
ing again,  they  found  but  fifteen  fathoms.  Thus  warned  of 
their  danger  of  being  hurled  in  midnight  darkness  upon  the 
rocks,  they  cast  four  anchors  out  of  the  stern,  and  waited 
impatiently  for  the  dawn. 

Some  of  the  sailors,  as  usual,  were  disposed  to  get  out  the 
only  boat  and  escape  to  the  shore,  leaving  the  others  to  theix 
fate.  They  pietended  that  it  was  their  object  to  cast  some 
more  anchors  out  of  the  foreship.  Paul,  perceiving  this, 
said   to   the   centurion  who  was  in  command  of  the  guard 

1  Acts  xxvii.  21-26. 


THE  CAPTIVE  IN  CHAINS.  209 

of  soldiers,  "  Except  these  abide  in  the  ship,  ye  cannot  be 
saved." 

The  soldiers,  in  prompt  obedience  to  military  command,  cut 
the  ropes,  and  the  boat  drifted  off  into  the  darkness  of  the 
stormy  sea.  As  the  day  was  beginning  to  dawn,  Paul  en- 
treated them  all  to  refresh  themselves  with  food,  saying  that 
this  was  needful  to  strengthen  them  for  the  fatigues  still  before 
them,  and  assurijig  them  that  they  should  all  be  saved  without 
the  slightest  bodily  harm.  It  is  very  evident  that  the  exalted 
Christian  character  of  Paul  had  given  him  great  influence 
with  all  on  board.  "  He  took  bread,  and  gave  thanks  to  God 
in  presence  of  them  all ;  and,  when  he  had  broken  it,  he  began 
to  eat.     Then  were  they  all  of  good  cheer." 

Further  to  lighten  the  ship,  that  they  might  draw  nearer  to 
the  shore,  they  threw  out  the  remainder  of  the  cargo  of  wheat 
into  the  sea.  With  the  early  dawn,  they  saw  the  outline  of  an 
unknown  island  at  a  little  distance  before  them.  As  the  light 
increased,  they  saw  a  small  bay,  or  indentation  of  the  shore, 
where  there  was  some  slight  protection  from  the  violence  of 
the  sea.  Raising  their  anchors,  and  spreading  their  mainsail, 
they  ran  the  ship  as  far  as  possible  upon  the  land.  The  bows 
struck  the  sand ;  while  the  stern,  still  floating,  was  tossed  up 
and  down  by  the  surging  billows ;  and  thus  the  ship  was  rap- 
idly being  broken  to  pieces.  The  soldiers,  with  their  charac- 
teristic recklessness  of  human  life,  proposed  that  the  prisoners 
should  be  put  to  death,  lest  they  should  escape  by  swimming ; 
but  the  more  humane  centurion,  cherishing  kindly  feelings  for 
Paul,  gave  liberty  to  each  one  to  save  himself  as  best  he 
could.  Passengers  and  crew  all  now  made  for  tlie  shore.  The 
strong  swimmers  sprang  boldly  into  the  sea ;  others,  on  boards 
or  fragments  of  the  ship,  reached  the  land.  Thus  they  stood 
upon  the  beach,  drenched,  and  shivering  in  the  cold  wintry 
wind,  having  lost  every  thing,  their  lives  only  being  preserved. 
The  storm  still  continued,  and  the  rain  was  falling. 

Some  of  the  natives  of  the  island  soon  collected  around 
them,  and  informed  them  that  they  were  upon  the  Island  of 
Malta,  in  the  Adriatic  Sea,  about  four  hundred   and   eighty 

14 


210  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIAN  ITT. 

miles  from  Crete.  By  the  aid  of  tlie  inhabitants,  a  fire  wm 
soon  kindled,  and  they  all  assembled  around  it.  As  Paul  gath- 
ered some  sticks  to  throw  upon  the  fire,  a  viper,  one  of  tha 
most  venomous  of  reptiles,  whose  bite  was  deemedy  certain 
death,  fastened  itself  upon  his  hand.  Paul  shook  the  reptile 
into  the  flames.  They  all  looked  to  see  him  drop  dead,  sup- 
posing him  to  be  a  murderer  who  could  not  escape  divine  ven- 
geance; but  soon,  seeing  no  harm  befall  him,  they  went  iiO 
the  other  extreme,  declaring  him  to  be  a  god. 

The  shipwrecked  company  remained  for  three  months  upon 
the  island  before  any  opportunity  was  presented  to  leave  it. 
That  Paul  devoted  these  three  months  to  energetic  efforts  in 
the  service  of  his  Master,  no  one  can  doubt ;  but  we  have  no 
record  of  the  incidents  he  encountered,  or  of  the  results  of  his 
labors,  with  one  exception.  In  the  narrative  of  Luke  we  find 
the  following  brief  statement :  — 

"  In  the  same  quarters  were  possessions  of  the  chief  man  of 
the  island,  wliose  name  was  Publius ;  who  received  us,  and 
lodged  ur  tl;ree  days  courteoasly.  And  it  came  to  pass,  that 
the  father  of  Publius  lay  sick  of  a  fever  and  of  a  bloody-flux ; 
tu  whom  Paul  entered  in  ard  prayed,  and  laid  his  hands  on 
him,  and  healed  him.  So,  when  this  was  done,  others  also, 
which  liad  diseases  in  the  island,  came,  and  were  healed ;  who 
also  honored  us  with  many  honors  ;  and,  when  we  departed, 
they  laded  us  with  such  thi:ags  as  were  necessary."^ 

A  ship  from  Alexandria  hj  the  name  of  "  Castor  and  Pollux," 
which  had  wintered  in  the  isle,  v/as  to  sail  with  the  returning 
spring  for  Rome,  The  shipwrecked  prisoners,  with  their  guard, 
were  taken  on  board,  and  the  sails  were  spread.  They  touched 
at  Syracuse,  the  capital  of  the  Island  of  Sicily,  which  was  on 
their  direct  route.  Here  they  remained  three  days  ;  and  then, 
weighing  anchor,  they  directed  their  course  towards  the 
Straits  of  IVfessina,  and  landed  at  Rhegium,  on  the  southern 
extremity  of  Italy.  Thence,  running  along  the  western  coa3t 
of  the  Italian  peninsula,  they  came  to  Puteoli,  about  seven 
miles  south-west  of  the  present  city  of  Naples.  Puteoli  waa 
then  the  principal  seaport  in  Southern  Italy. 

'  A  cts  Kxviii.  7-10, 


THE  CAPTIVE  IN  CHAINS.  211 

Here  they  found  Christian  brethren ;  but  it  is  not  known 
by  whom  the  gospel  was  brought  to  their  region.  Paul  was 
permitted  to  tarry  with  them  seven  days.  Thus  there  was  op- 
portunity for  the  tidings  to  reach  Rome  (which  was  but  fifty- 
six  miles  distant)  of  the  approach  of  the  renowned  apostle. 
The  Christians  in  Rome  were  doubtless  pretty  well  acquainted 
with  Paul's  career.  His  Epistle  to  the  Romans  had  been 
written  about  five  years  before  this. 

Leaving  the  ship  at  Puteoli,  they  commenced  their  journey 
by  land  to  Rome.  When  they  had  advanced  about  ten  miles 
on  their  way,  they  came  to  a  place  called  Appii  Forum.  Here, 
and  at  another  place  a  few  miles  farther  on  called  the  Three 
Taverns,  they  found  brethren  from  Rome  who  had  come  to 
meet  them.  The  cordiality  with  which  the  Christians  greeted 
the  venerable  prisoner  so  cheered  him,  that  "he  thanked  God, 
and  took  courage." 

Upon  Paul's  arrival  in  Rome,  he  was  surrendered  to  the 
custody  of  the  captain  of  the  pretorian  cohort.  His  name, 
according  to  Tacitus,  was  Burrhus  Afranius.  This  officer 
kindly  allowed  Paul  his  liberty,  save  only  that  he  was  always 
chained  to  a  soldier,  who  accompanied  him  wherever  he  went. 
After  Paul  had  been  in  Rome  three  days,  he  invited  his  breth- 
ren (the  Jews)  to  meet  him,  and  thus  addressed  them :  — 

"Men  and  brethren,  though  I  have  committed  nothing 
against  the  people  or  customs  of  our  fathers,  yet  was  I  deliv- 
ered prisoner  from  Jerusalem  into  the  hands  of  the  Romans  ; 
who,  when  they  had  examined  me,  would  have  let  me  go,  be- 
cause there  was  no  cause  of  death  in  me.  But,  when  the  Jews 
spake  against  it,  I  was  constrained  to  appeal  unto  Caesar ;  not 
that  I  had  aught  to  accuse  my  nation  of.  For  this  cause, 
therefore,  have  I  called  for  you ;  because  that  for  the  hope  of 
Israel^  I  am  bound  with  this  chain." 

The  Jews  replied,  "  We  neither  received  letters  out  of  Judaea 
concerning  thee,  neither  any  of  the  brethren  that  came  showed 
or  spake  any  harm  of  thee.  But  we  desire  to  hear  of  thee 
what  thou  thinkest ;  for  as  concerning  this  sect,  we  know  that 
everywhere  it  is  spoken  against." 

*  The  hope  which  the  Jews  cherished  of  the  coming  of  the  Messiah. 


212  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIAN  ITT. 

A  day  was  accordingly  appointed,  when  they  met  Paul  at  his 
lodging;  and  he  expounded  to  them  the  principles  of  the 
Christian  religion,  and  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  "  persuading 
them  out  of  the  law  of  Moses  and  the  prophets  from  morning 
till  evening." 

Some  helieved,  and  some  believed  not.  A  very  animated  de- 
bate arose  between  the  two  parties,  and  they  retired  disputing 
vehemently.  Paul  regarded  the  result  as  a  rejection  of  Christ ; 
for,  quoting  against  the  unbelieving  Jews  one  of  the  denuncia- 
tions of  the  prophet  Isaiah,  he  added,  "Be  it  known,  there- 
fore, unto  you,  that  the  salvation  of  God  is  sent  unto  the 
Gentiles,  and  that  they  will  hear  it."  Luke  concludes  his 
interesting  narrative,  which  the  Holy  Spirit  superintended, 
with  the  words,  — 

"  And  Paul  dwelt  two  whole  years  in  his  own  hired  house, 
and  received  all  that  came  in  unto  him  ;  preaching  the  king- 
dom of  God,  and  teaching  those  things  which  concern  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  with  all  confidence,  no  man  forbidding 
him." 


CHAPTER    IX. 


THE   FIRST    PERSECUTION. 


rhe  Population  of  Rome. —The  Reign  of  Tiberius  Cssar.  —  His  Character  and 
Death.  —  The  Proposal  to  deify  Jesus.  —  Caligula.  —  His  Crimes,  and  the  Earthly 
Retribution.  —  Nero  and  his  Career.  —  His  Crimes  and  Death.  —  The  Spirit  of  th* 
Gospel. —  Sufferings  of  the  Christians. —  Testimony  of  Tacitus. —  Testimony 
of  Chrysostom. —  Panic  in  Rome.  —  The  Sins  and  Sorrows  of  weary  Centuries. 
—  Noble  Sentiments  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome. 


HE  inspired  narrative  of  Luke,  contained  in  the 
Acts  of  the  Apostles,  brings  down  the  history 
of  Christianity  through  a  period  of  thirty  years 
after  the  ascension  of  our  Saviour,  —  to  A.D.  62. 
The  subsequent  career  of  the  apostle  Paul  la 
involved  in  much  obscurity.  It  is  generally 
supposed,  from  allusions  in  his  letters,  that  he 
was  soon  brought  to  trial,  and  acquitted,  in  the  year  of  our 
Lord  G3.  From  Rome  he  probably  returned  to  Jerusalem, 
and  thence  visited  Ephesus,  Laodicea,  and  Colosse.  After- 
wards he  returned  to  Rome  by  the  way  of  Troas,  Philippi,  and 
Corinth.  Rome  presented  to  him  the  widest  and  most  impor- 
tant field  of  labor,  and  on  that  account  he  probably  decided 
to  spend  the  remainder  of  his  life  there  ;  and  there  he  suffered 
martyrdom  (it  is  supposed,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  65),  as 
will  be  related  in  subsequent  pages. 

But  it  is  necessary  for  us  now  to  retrace  our  steps  a  little, 
and  to  turn  back  a  few  leaves  of  the  pages  of  history.  Luke, 
in  his  narrative,  has  conducted  Paul  to  Rome,  then  proud  mis- 
tress of  the  world,  containing  a  population  variously  estimated 


214  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

from  two  to  four  millions.  Rome  was  the  central  and  appar- 
ently impregnable  fortress  of  pagan  superstition ;  and  it  was 
in  Rome,  in  deadly  struggle  with  her  wicked  emperors  and 
her  degraded  populace,  that  some  of  the  greatest  victories  of 
Christianity  were  won.  The  strife  between  paganism  and  the 
religion  of  Jesus  continued  for  centuries,  and  developed  hero- 
ism on  the  part  of  the  Christians  to  which  no  parallel  can  be 
found  in  secular  annals. 

It  will  be  remembered,  that,  when  Jesus  was  crucified  as  a 
malefactor  upon  Mount  Calvary,  —  the  sacrificial  Lamb  of  God, 
bearing  in  his  own  wonderful  person,  as  both  God  and  man, 
the  mysterious  burden  of  the  world's  atonement,  —  Tiberius 
Csesar,  the  adopted  son  and  heir  of  Octavius  Caesar,  or  Caesar 
the  August,  sat  upon  the  imperial  throne.  It  was  in  the  eigh- 
teenth year  of  the  reign  of  Tiberius  that  Jesus  was  crjcified. 
This  event,  the  crucifixion  of  the  Son  of  God,  —  probably  the 
most  wonderful  which  has  occurred  during  the  annals  of  eter- 
nity,—  produced  no  impression  whatever;  "Jiis  unknown  in 
the  distant  palaces  of  Eome. 

The  death  of  Tiberius  strikingly  illustrates  the  depravity  •  t 
the  times.  He  had  retired  to  the  Island  of  Capreae,  where,  in 
a  palace  of  the  most  luxurious  surroundings,  he  surrendered 
himself  to  almost  every  conceivable  indulgence  of  sin.  For  six 
years  he  remained  there,  while  conspiracies  and  revolts  agi- 
tated the  empire.  There  was  a  young  man  in  his  suite  by  the 
name  of  Caligula,  son  of  the  renowned  general  Germauicus, 
whom  Tiberius,  through  jealousy,  had  put  to  death. 

Ciligula  was  one  of  the  vilest  of  the  vile.  He  ingratiated 
himself  in  the  favor  of  the  tyrant  by  pandering  to  all  his 
wickedness,  and  by  the  most  sycophantic  adulation.  At  leag'cn, 
the  death-hour  of  Tiberius  tolled.  Remorse,  with  scorpion- 
lashes,  hovered  over  his  dying-bed.  He  resorted  to  every 
expedient  to  repel  reflection,  and  to  close  his  eyes  against  the 
approach  of  the  king  of  terrors.  In  pursuit  of  health,  h« 
had  left  Caprese,  and  was  at  Misenum,  near  Naples.  Caligula 
had,  with  many  other  courtiers,  accompanied  him. 

The  wretched  emperor,  reclining  upon  his  couch,  was  taken 


THE  FIRST  PERSECUTION.  215 

with  a  fainting-fit.  His  pliysician,  feeling  his  pulse,  said, 
"  His  life  is  ebbing  fast."  AH  thought  him  dying.  The  cour- 
tiers abandoned  the  powerless  monarch,  who  had  no  longer 
any  favors  to  grant,  and  gathered  tumultuously  with  their 
congratulations  around  Caligula,  declaring  him  to  be  emperor. 
In  the  midst  of  their  hilarity,  Tiberius,  to  the  consternation 
of  all,  revived ;  but  he  was  weak  and  helpless,  and  could  be 
easily  put  out  of  the  way.  A  few  of  the  courtiers  entered  his 
chamber,  and  pressed  a  pillow  upon  his  face ;  and,  after  a  brief 
and  feeble  struggle,  the  smothered  king  lay  still  in  death. 
Caligula,  who  was,  if  possible,  still  more  infamous  than  Tibe- 
rius, was  now  decorated  with  the  imperial  purple. 

It  is  stated  by  Justin  and  other  early  writers,  that  Pontius 
Pilate,  after  the  crucifixion  of  Christ,  wrote  to  the  Emperor 
Tiberius,  giving  an  account  of  his  death,  his  resurrection,  and 
of  the  miracles  which  he  had  performed;  and  that  Tiberius 
proposed  to  tbe  Roman  senate  that  Jesus  should  be  recognized 
as  one  of  the  gods,  and  that  his  statue  should  be  placed  in  a 
niche  in  one  of  the  temples  of  paganism.  The  senate,  for 
some  unexplained  reason,  did  not  accede  to  this  request. 

Caligula,  elated  by  his  accession  to  sovereign  power,  sur- 
rendered himself  to  the  uncontrolled  dominion  of  lusts  and 
passions,  which  had  already  been  rendered  furious  and  untama- 
ble by  long  years  of  indulgence.  It  is  difficult  to  account  for 
the  cruel  and  senseless  atrocities  perpetrated  by  this  monster 
upon  any  other  supposition  than  that  he  was  a  madman,  or 
that  fiends  had  taken  possession  of  his  person. 

He  erected  a  temple  of  gold;  placed  in  it  a  statue  of  him- 
self, which  he  ordered  to  be  dressed  every  day  in  clothes 
similar  to  those  which  he  should  that  day  wear ;  and,  declaring 
himself  to  be  a  god,  constrained  his  subjects  to  worship  his 
statue  with  divine  honors.  The  degraded  populace,  without 
religion,  without  any  moral  principle,  hesitated  not  to  bow  in 
adoration  before  this  image  of  the  most  contemptible  of  men. 
The  most  rare  delicacies  which  money  could  purchase  were 
offered  in  sacrifice  at  his  shrine.  His  wife,  and  even  his  horse, 
were  ordained  as  priests  to  officiate  in  his  temple.     The  insane 


216  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

luxury  which  he  displayed  surpassed  all  that  had  hithertc 
been  known.  His  baths  were  composed  of  the  most  costly 
liquids.  His  table  service  was  of  solid  gold.  Even  in  his 
sauces  he  had  je^^els  dissolved,  that  they  might  be  more 
costly.  He  built  a  stable  of  marble  for  his  favorite  horse,  and 
fed  him  with  gilded  oats  from  a  manger  of  ivory. 

The  cruelty  of  this  idiotic  monster  was  equal  to  his  folly. 
Senators,  untried,  uncondemned,  were  wantonly  murdered  at 
his  bidding.  Hi?  victims  were  thrown  into  the  dens  of  half- 
famished  lions  and  tigers  to  be  devoured  alive.  It  was  one  o'? 
the  entertainments  of  his  meals  to  place  persons  upon  tha 
rack,  that  he  might  be  amused  by  their  shrieks,  and  enter- 
tained by  their  convulsions. 

The  guilty,  cowardly  wretch  was  ever  trembling  in  every 
nerve  in  apprehension  of  assassination.  Suspecting  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  women  of  his  court  o^.  being  engaged  in  a 
conspiracy  against  him,  he  placed  hei  upon  the  rack  to  enforce 
confession,  and  dislocated  every  jcmt  in  her  body.  Her 
shrieks  and  mutilation  roused  the  courtiers  to  the  energies  of 
despair.  Cherea,  a  Roman  senator,  approached  the  emperor, 
and,  plunging  a  dagger  into  his  heart,  exclaimed,  "  Tyrant, 
think  of  this  ! " 

Caligula  fell  dead.  He  was  but  twenty-nine  years  of  age, 
and  had  reigned  but  four  years.  To  such  men,  how  awful  the 
declaration  of  Christianity !  —  "All  that  are  in  the  graves  shal^ 
hear  His  voice,  and  shall  come  forth,  —  they  that  have  done 
good,  unto  the  resurrection  of  life ;  and  they  that  have  done 
evil,  unto  the  resurrection  of  damnation." 

Anarchy  succeeded.  As  some  drunken  Roman  scldiers  were 
rioting  through  the  palace,  they  found  a  half-crazed  old  man 
named  Claudius,  an  uncle  of  Caligula,  hidden  behind  a  pile 
of  lumber  in  the  garret.  They  seized  him,  and  partly  in  jest, 
and  partly  in  earnest,  proclaimed  him  emperor.  The  army 
took  up  the  joke,  and  ratified  the  choice.  In  solid  phalanx, 
with  banners,  shoutings,  and  bugle-peals,  they  presented  him 
to  the  trembling  senate,  and  compelled  his  enthronement. 

In   Claudius,  the  worst  of  conceivable  bad  elements  wexp 


TE2  FIRST  PERSECUTION.  217 

combined :  he  united  the  stupidity  of  the  idiot  with  the 
ferocity  of  the  demon.  He  commenced  his  reign  about  the 
forty-sixth  year  of  the  Christian  era,  Britain,  then  inhab- 
ited hy  barbaric  tribes,  invited  invasion.  Claudius  sent  an 
irmy  to  march  through  Gaul,  and,  crossing  the  channel,  to 
plant  the  banners  of  the  empire  on  those  distant  shores. 
Many  and  bloody  were  the  battles ;  but  the  Roman  legions 
were  triumphant. 

Claudius  was  so  elated  with  the  conquest,  that  he  in  per- 
son repaired  to  Britain  to  receive  the  homage  of  the  savage 
inhabitants  of  the  conquered  isle.  Still  the  conquest  waa 
very  imperfect.  But  a  few  of  the  tribes  had  been  vanquished. 
Large  portions  of  the  island  still  remained  under  the  sway 
of  their  bold  and  indomitable  chieftains.  Thirty  battles  were 
subsequently  fought,  and  several  years  of  incessant  conflict 
passed,  before  Britain  was  fairly  reduced  to  the  condition  of 
a  Roman  province. 

Messalina,  the  wife  of  Claudius,  has  attained  the  unenvia- 
ble notoriety  of  having  been  the  worst,  the  most  shameless 
woman  earth  has  ever  known.  The  renown  of  her  profligacy 
has  survived  the  lapse  of  eighteen  centuries.  The  story  of 
her  life  can  now  never  be  told :  modern  civilization  would 
not  endure  the  recital.  The  ladies  of  her  court  were  com- 
pelled, under  penalty  of  torture  and  death,  publicly  to  prac- 
tise the  same  enormities  in  which  she  rioted.  Her  brutal 
husband  was  utterly  regardless  of  the  infamy  of  her  life. 
At  length,  becoming  weary  of  her,  he  connived  with  another 
for  her  assassination. 

Claudius,  having  murdered  Messalina,  married  Agrippina. 
She  had  already  given  birth  to  the  monster  Nero.  For  a 
short  time,  she  ruled  her  imbecile  husband  with  a  rod  of 
iron.  Three  wives  had  preceded  her.  One  day,  Claudius, 
in  his  cups,  imprudently  declared  that  it  was  his  fate  to  be 
tormented  with  bad  wives,  and  to  be  their  executioner. 
Agrippina  weighed  the  words.  Claudius  loved  mushrooms. 
Agrippina  prepared  for  him  a  delicious  dish,  sprinkled  poison 
npon  it,  and  with  her  own  loving  hands  presented  it  to  her 


218  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANirZ. 

spouse.     She  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  faB  and  die  in 
convnlsions  at  her  feet. 

Such  was  life  in  the  palaces  of  Rome  at  the  time  of  the 
apostles.  Such  was  the  world  that  Jesus  came  to  redeem. 
The  question  is  sometimes  asked,  whether  humanity  ia  ad- 
vancing or  retrograding  in  moral  character.  No  one  familiar 
with  the  history  of  past  ages  will  ask  that  question.  Mani- 
fold as  are  the  evils  in  many  of  the  courts  of  Europe  at  the 
present  time,  most  of  them  are  as  far  in  advance  of  ancient 
Rome,  in  all  that  constitutes  integrity  and  virtue,  as  is  the 
most  refined  Christian  family  in  advance  of  the  most  godless 
ar.d  degraded. 

Nero,  a  lad  of  seventeen,  whom  Claudius  had  adopted  as  his 
heir,  succeeded  to  the  throne.  It  is  said,  that,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  his  reign,  he  gave  indications  of  a  humane  spirit; 
but  this  period  was  so  short  as  scarcely  to  deserve  notice. 
The  character  and  career  of  Nero  were  such,  that,  from  that 
day  to  this,  the  ears  of  mankind  have  tingled  with  the  recital  of 
th*:  outrages  he  inflicted  upon  humanity.  The  sceptre  of  the 
world  was  placed  in  the  hands  of  this  boy  in  the  year  of  our 
Lord  54.  The  knowledge  of  the  doctrines  of  Jesus  had 
already  reached  Rome.  Paul  was  there,  though  in  chains, 
boldly  preaching  the  religion  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 

"  There  is  one  God,  and  one  only,"  said  Jesus ;  "  and  all 
idols  are  vanity  and  a  lie." 

"  All  mankind  are  brethren,"  said  Jesus ;  "  and  God  com- 
mands that  every  man  should  love  his  brother  as  himself." 

"  The  divine  benediction,"  said  Jesus,  "  rests  upon  the  lowly 
in  spirit,  the  pure  in  heart ;  upon  the  peacemakers ;  upon 
those  who  visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  adiction 
and  who  practise  every  thing  that  is  true  and  lovely  and 
of  good  report.  Repent  of  sin,  seek  pardon  through  faith  in  a 
Saviour  who  has  died  to  atone  for  your  sins,  commence  a 
life  of  devotion  to  the  glory  of  God  and  to  the  welfare  of 
your  brother-man,  and  death  shall  introduce  you  to  realm? 
of  honor,  glory,  and  immortality." 

"  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons,"  said  Jesus.     ''  The  mon- 


THE  FIRST  PERSECUTION.  219 

arch  and  the  slave  stand  alike  at  his  tribunal.  The  wicked, 
and  those  who  fear  not  God,  shall  be  cast  into  hell.  The 
smoke  of  their  torment  ascendeth  for  ever  and  ever." 

These  offers  of  salvation  to  all  who  would  repent  and  com- 
mence the  Christlike  life,  these  good  news  and  glad  tiding*, 
were  joyfully  accepted  by  hundreds  and  by  thousands  of  the 
poor  and  the  oppressed  and  the  world-weary ;  but  the  denun- 
ciations of  divine  wrath  upon  those  who,  by  their  enormities, 
were  converting  this  world  into  a  realm  of  woe,  fell  appallingly 
upon  the  ears  of  proud  and  unrelenting  oppressors. 

The  teachings  of  Jesus  were  thus  hateful  to  Nero.  He  hated 
that  religion  which  condemned  him.  He  hated  those  who 
preached  it.  He  deliberately  determined  to  blot  out  that 
religion  from  the  world  ;  to  silence  in  death  every  tongue  that  *- 
proclaimed  it.  It  was  apparently  an  easy  task  to  do  this. 
Nero  was  monarch  of  the  world.  A  resistless  army  moved 
unquestioning  at  his  bidding.  All  power  was  apparently  in 
his  hands.  He  was  a  man,  for  the  times,  highly  educated. 
He  was  endowed  with  intellectual  shrewdness  as  well  as  physi- 
cal energy,  and  could  bring  public  opinion  to  bear  against  the 
Christians,  while  he  assailed  them  with  the  axe  of  the  heads- 
man and  the  flames  of  martyrdom. 

The  Christians  were  few  and  feeble.  To  turn  against  them 
popular  indignation,  atrocious  libels  were  fabricated.  The 
Christians  were  in  the  habit  of  taking  their  infants  to  church 
to  be  baptized.  Pagan  slanderers  affirmed  that  they  were 
taken  there  to  be  offered  in  bloody  sacrifice.  The  Christians 
often  met  to  celebrate  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper: 
they  ate  of  that  bread  which  represented  the  body  of  Jesus 
broken  for  us ;  they  drank  of  that  wine  emblematic  of  the 
blood  of  Jesus,  shed  for  our  sins.  The  pagans  declared  that 
the  Christians  were  cannibals ;  that  they  secretly  met  in  mid- 
night feasts,  and,  having  murdered  a  man,  ate  his  flesh,  and 
drank  his  blood. 

Thus  a  terrible  prejudice  was  created  against  the  Christians. 
Many  were  deceived  by  these  cruel  slanders  who  would  possi- 
bly have  joined  the  disciples  had  they  known  the  truth.    Thus 


220  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

shrewdly  Nero  prepared  the  public  mind  for  the  outrages  ha 
was  about  to  inflict  upon  those  whom  he  had  doomed  to  de- 
struction. Even  Tacitus,  the  renowned  Roman  historian,  a 
man  of  much  candor,  was  manifestly  under  the  influeno«  of 
these  gross  libels.  In  the  following  terms,  he  describes  the 
first  persecution  of  the  Christians  at  Rome  by  Nero :  — 

"  Christ,  the  founder  of  that  name,  was  put  to  death  as  a 
criminal  by  Pontius  Pilate,  procurator  of  Judaea,  in  the  reign 
of  Tiberius.  But  the  pernicious  superstition,  repressed  for  a 
time,  broke  out  again,  not  only  through  Judaea,  where  the 
mischief  originated,  but  through  the  city  of  Rome  also,  whither 
all  things  horrible  and  disgraceful  flow  from  all  quarters  as  to 
a  common  receptacle,  and  where  they  are  encouraged.  Accord- 
ingly, first  those  were  seized  who  confessed  that  they  were  Chris- 
tians ;  next,  on  their  information,  a  vast  multitude  were  con- 
victed, not  so  much  on  the  charge  cf  burning  the  city,  as  of 
hating  the  human  race. 

"And  in  their  deaths  they  were  made  the  subject  of  sport; 
for  they  were  covered  with  skins  of  wild  beasts,  and  worried 
to  death  by  dogs,  or  nailed  to  crosses,  or  set  fire  to,  and,  wheL. 
day  declined,  burned  to  serve  for  nocturnal  lights.  Nero 
offered  his  own  gardens  for  that  spectacle,  and  exhibited  a  cir- 
censian  game,  indiscriminately  mingling  with  the  common 
people  in  the  habit  of  a  charioteer,  or  else  standing  in  hia 
chariot.  Whence  a  feeling  of  compassion  rose  towards  the 
sufferers,  though  guilty,  and  deserving  to  be  made  examples  ol 
by  capital  punishment,  because  they  seem  not  to  be  cut  off  for 
the  public  good,  but  victims  to  the  ferocity  of  one  man."  ^ 

It  will  be  noticed  in  the  above  paragraph  that  Tacitu3 
alludes  to  a  charge  which  Nero  brought  against  the  Christians, 
of  having  set  fire  to  the  city  of  Rome.  One  day,  some  one 
repeated  in  conversation,  in  presence  of  the  tyrant,  the  line, 
"  When  I  am  dead,  let  fire  devour  the  world."  Nero  replied, 
"It  shall  be  said,  'When  I  am  living,  let  fixe  devour  the 
world.'  " 

Rome  then  contained,  according  to  the  general  estimate, 

^  Works  of  Tacitus,  Oxford  translation,  p.  423 


THE  FIRST  PERSECUTION.  221 

about  four  million  inhabitants.  They  were  crowded  together 
in  narrow,  winding  streets.  Nero  ordered  his  emissaries  to 
apply  the  torch  in  various  sections  of  the  city.  The  wind  was 
fresh ;  the  buildings,  which  were  mostly  of  wood,  were  dry ;  the 
flames  fierce.  Nero  ascended  a  neighboring  tower  to  view  the 
cruel,  sublime,  awful  spectacle.  Earth  never  witnessed  such  a 
scene  before,  has  never  since.  For  nine  days  and  nights  the 
flames  raged  in  quenchless  fury.  Uncounted  multitudes, 
caught  in  the  narrow  streets,  perished  miserably.  The  most 
magnificent  specimens  of  architecture  and  priceless  works  of 
art  were  consumed. 

The  motives  which  led  to  this  diabolical  deed  were  probably 
complex.  It  is  said  that  Nero,  satiated  with  every  conceivable 
indulgence,  longed  for  some  new  excitement.  The  spectacle 
of  the  dwellings  of  four  millions  of  people  in  flames ;  the 
frenzy,  the  dismay,  the  runnings  to  and  fro,  of  the  perishing 
millions,  —  men,  women,  and  children ;  the  rush  and  roar  of  the 
conflagration,  flashing  in  billowy  flames  by  night  to  the  clouds, 
— all  combined  to  present  a  spectacle  such  as  mortal  eye  had 
never  gazed  upon  before. 

The  estimated  population  of  the  Roman  empire  at  this  time 
was  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  millions.  By  the  assessment 
of  enormous  taxes  upon  these  millions,  funds  could  easily  be 
raised  to  rebuild  Rome  in  hitherto  unimagined  splendor.  It 
is  said  that  this  ambition  was  one  of  the  motives  which  in- 
spired Nero  to  his  infamous  deed. 

Nero  commenced  with  great  energy,  levying  taxes,  and  re- 
building the  city ;  but  the  cry  of  the  starving,  houseless  mil- 
lions could  not  be  stifled.  The  tyrant  was  alarmed.  To  shield 
himself  from  obloquy,  he  accused  the  Christians  of  the  crime, 
and  visited  them  with  the  most  terrible  retribution. 

"  Not  all  the  relief,"  writes  Tacitus,  *'  that  could  come  from 
man,  not  all  the  bounties  that  the  prince  could  bestow,  nor  all 
the  atonements  which  could  be  presented  to  the  gods,  availed 
to  relieve  Nero  from  the  infamy  of  being  believed  to  have 
ordered  the  conflagration.  Hence,  to  suppress  the  rumor,  he 
falsely  charged  with  the  guilt,  and  punished  with  the  most 
exquisite  tortures,  the  persons  called  ChristianH." 


222  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

To  enter  into  the  detail  of  the  outrages  to  which  the  Chris- 
tians were  exposed  would  but  harrow  the  feelings  of  the  reader. 
Demoniac  ingenuity  was  employed  in  inflicting  the  most  revolt- 
ing  and  terrible  sujffering ;  while  at  the  same  time  the  victims 
were  so  disguised,  sewed  up  in  skins  of  wild  beasts,  or  wrapped 
in  tarred  sheets,  as  to  deprive  them  of  all  sympathy,  and  expose 
them  to  the  derision  of  the  brutal  mob.  Tender  Christian 
maidens  passed  through  ordeals  of  exposure,  suffering,  and 
death,  too  dreadful  for  us,  in  these  modern  days,  even  to  con- 
template. That  divine  support  which  Christ  promised  to  his 
followers  in  these  predicted  hours  of  persecution  sustained 
them.  The  imagination  cannot  conceive  of  greater  cruelty 
than  Nero  inflicted  upon  these  disciples  of  Jesus :  and  yet  in 
death  they  came  off  more  than  conquerors ;  and  it  proved  then 
emphatically  true,  that  "  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  was  the  seed 
of  the  Church." 

It  was  during  this  persecution  by  Nero  that  Paul  suffered 
martyrdom  at  Rome.  He  had  been  there  a  prisoner  in  chains 
for  some  years.  With  his  accustomed  power  and  success,  he 
had  preached  the  gospel  of  Jesus ;  and  those  pure  doctrines  had 
gained  access  even  to  the  palace  of  the  Caesars.  A  large  and 
flourishing  church  had  been  gathered  in  that  city,  which  in 
corruption  equalled,  even  if  it  did  not  outvie,  Sodom  and  Go- 
morrah. On  no  page  of  Holy  Writ  does  the  light  of  inspira- 
tion beam  more  brightly  than  in  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Church 
at  Rome. 

Chrysostom  says,  that  a  cup-bearer  of  Nero,  and  one  of  the 
most  distinguished  females  of  his  court,  became,  through  the 
preaching  of  Paul,  disciples  of  Jesus,  and  recoiled  from  the  sin 
and  the  shame  everywhere  around  them.  This  so  enraged  the 
tyrant,  that  he  ordered  Paul  immediately  to  be  beheaded. 

It  is  one  of  the  legends  of  the  Romish  Church,  founded  upon 
evidence  which  has  not  generally  been  entirely  satisfactory  to 
Protestants,  that  the  apostle  Peter  visited  Rome,  where  he 
was  arrested,  and  imprisoned  with  Paul.  It  is  said  that  the 
two  apostles  were  incarcerated  together  in  the  prison  of 
Mamertin,  which  was  at  the  foot  of  the  Capitoline  Hill,  and 


THE  FIRST  PERSECUTION.  223 

which  was  constructed  of  damp  and  glooiry  underground 
vaults,  extensive  in  their  range,  and  crowded  with  the  victims 
of  tyranny.  Two  of  the  prison-guards  and  forty-seven  of  the 
prisoners,  impressed  by  the  character  and  by  the  teachings  o^ 
these  holy  men,  became  converts.  Peter  baptized  them.  Nero 
ordered  both  of  the  apostles  to  be  executed.  Their  death  took 
place,  according  to  the  declaration  of  the  Catholic  fathers,  en 
the  same  day,  —  the  29th  of  June,  A.D.  67.  St.  Paul,  being  a 
Roman  citizen,  could  not  be  subjected  to  the  ignominy  of  cru- 
cifixion :  he  was  beheaded.  St.  Peter,  being  a  Jew,  was  re- 
garded as  a  vile  person,  and  doomed  to  the  cross.  Paul  was 
led  a  distance  of  three  miles  from  the  city  to  a  place  called 
the  Fountain  of  Salvienne,  where  the  block  of  the  executioner 
awaited  him.  On  the  way,  forgetful  of  self,  he  preached  the 
gospel  of  Jesus  to  the  soldiers  who  guarded  him.  Three  o;*^ 
them  became  converts,  and  soon  after  suffered  martyrdom. 

St.  Peter  was  led  across  the  Tiber  to  the  quarter  inhabited 
by  the  Jews,  and  was  crucified  on  the  top  of  Mount  Janiculum. 
As  they  were  preparing  to  nail  him  to  the  cross  in  the  ordi- 
nary manner,  he  said  that  "  he  did  not  merit  to  be  treated  as 
was  his  Master,"  and  implored  them  to  crucify  him  with  his 
head  downwards.     His  wish  was  granted.^ 

Nero  had  a  half-brother,  Britannicus,  the  son  of  Claudius 
and  his  own  mother  Agrippina.  Legitimately,  he  was  entitled 
to  the  throne  rather  than  Nero.  The  tyrant  became  jealous 
of  Britannicus.  He  was  invited,  with  his  mother  and  his  Sister 
Octavia,  to  a  supper  in  the  palace  of  Nero.  A  goblet  of  poi- 
soned wine  was  placed  before  him :  he  drank,  fell  into  convta- 
eions,  and  died  in  the  arms  of  his  mother.  Nero  reclined 
listlessly  upon  a  sofa,  and,  as  he  witnessed  his  agonizing  ccn- 
vnlsions,  said  "  he  did  not  think  much  was  the  matter  wich 
Britannicus ;  that  it  was  probably  merely  a  fainting-fit."  When 
it  appeared  that  the  prince  was  really  dead,  he  ordered  the 
body  to  be  immediately  removed  and  burned ;  while  the  enter- 
tainment went  on  undisturbed.  It  was  a  tempestuous  night. 
Floods  of  rain  were  falling,  and  a  tornado  swept  the  city,  %o 

»  Histoire  du  Christianisme,  par  I'Abb^  Fleury.  The  abb6  gives  all  the  Au- 
thorities upon  which  he  bases  his  narraiive. 


224  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

the  funeral-pyre  of  the  young  prince  blazed  in  the  Campus 
Martius. 

"The  appointments  for  his  burial,"  writes  Tacitus,  "had 
been  prepared  beforehand.  His  ashes  were  entombed  in  the 
Campus  Martius  during  such  tempestuous  rains,  that  the  pop- 
ulace believed  them  to  be  denunciations  of  the  wrath  of  the 
gods  against  the  deed.  Nero,  by  an  edict,  justified  the  hur- 
rying of  the  obsequies,  alleging  that  it  was  an  institution  of 
Lheir  ancestors  to  withdraw  from  the  sight  such  as  died  prema- 
turely, and  not  to  lengthen  the  solemnity  by  encomiums  and 
processions." 

The  vast  estates  of  Britannicus,  consisting  of  palaces,  villas, 
and  other  property,  were  seized  by  Nero,  and  divided  among 
his  partisans  to  purchase  their  support. 

Agrippina  understood  full  well  that  Britannicus  had  been 
poisoned  by  his  brother  Nero  ;  but  she  feigned  to  be  deceived, 
and  to  believe  that  he  died  accidentally  in  a  fit,  Agrippina 
was  another  Messalina.  She  hated  Nero,  and  determined  to 
secure  his  death.  Nero  hated  her,  and  was  plotting  day  and 
night  how  he  might  kUl  her,  and  yet  not  expose  himself  to  the 
charge  of  being  the  murderer  of  his  mother.  They  both  aflfect- 
ed  the  most  cordial  relations  in  their  social  intercourse,  and 
addressed  each  other  in  the  most  endearing  epithets. 

Agrippina  was  immensely  rich,  had  numerous  and  powerful 
partisans,  and  had  formed  the  plan  of  effecting  the  assassina- 
tion of  Nero,  and  of  placing  upon  the  throne  one  of  her  favor- 
ites, Rubellius  Plautus.  Nero,  whose  suspicions  were  ever  ac- 
tive, received  some  intimations  of  this  plan.  The  following 
ingenious  device  he  adopted  to  rid  himself  of  his  mother : 
He  caused  a  vessel  to  be  constructed  with  more  than  regal 
splendor,  but  so  arranged,  that,  by  the  withdrawal  of  a  few  bolts, 
the  heavy  canopy  which  overhung  the  royal  couch  would  fall 
with  a  fatal  crash ;  and  at  the  same  time  planks  would  give 
vay,  which  would  cause  the  vessel  immediately  to  founder. 

Agrippina  was  residing  at  her  magnificent  country-seat  at 
Antiam,  near  Rome.  Nero  invited  his  mother  to  an  entertain- 
ment, such  as  only  a  Roman  emperor  could  provide,  at  Baise^ 


THE  FIRST  PERSECUTION.  225 

near  Naples.  It  is  probable  that  the  motlier  was  Bomewhat 
deceived  by  the  marvellous  aflfection  manifested  for  her  by  her 
son.  She  accepted  his  invitation.  She  was  conveyed  to  Baiae 
in  a  sedan.  Nero  met  her  upon  her  approach,  embraced  her 
afiectionately,  and  led  her  to  the  villa  of  Bauli,  washed  by  the 
sea,  where  her  reception  was  as  magnificent  as  imperial  wealth 
and  power  could  give.  Agrippina  was  assigned  a  seat  by  the 
side  of  her  son.  He  loaded  her  with  caresses,  amused  her 
with  anecdotes,  and  honored  her  by  pretending  to  seek  her 
counsel  upon  the  most  serious  affairs  of  state. 

It  was  a  late  hour  when  the  banquet  came  to  a  close.  Nero 
conducted  his  mother  to  the  beach,  and  assisted  her  into  the  im- 
perial barge,  which,  driven  by  three  banks  of  oars,  was  appoint- 
ed to  convey  her  to  Antium.  It  was  a  brilliant  night.  Tha 
unclouded  sky  was  resplendent  with  stars,  while  not  a  breath 
of  wind  rippled  the  polished  surface  of  the  sea.  With  lusty 
sinews  the  well-trained  seamen  pushed  the  barge  from  the 
shore.  The  hired  assassins  of  Nero  on  board  had  made  all 
the  arrangements  for  the  destruction  of  the  empress,  her  attend- 
ants, and  the  seamen ;  while  precautions  had  been  adopted  for 
their  own  escape.  They  had  proceeded  but  a  short  distancd 
on  their  voyage,  when  suddenly  the  heavy-laden  imperial  can- 
opy fell,  with  such  force  as  to  crush  to  death  one  of  the  female 
attendants  who  reclined  at  Agrippina's  feet ;  but  it  so  hap- 
pened that  some  of  the  timbers  fell  in  such  a  way  as  to 
protect  Agrippina  from  serious  harm,  though  she  was  slightly 
wounded.  Instantly  apprehending  the  treachery  of  her  son, 
she  had  sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  remain  perfectly  quiet. 
One  of  her  maids,  who  was  thrown  into  the  sea,  in  her  drowning 
terror  cried  out  that  she  was  Agrippina,  and  implored  of  them 
to  save  the  mother  of  the  prince.  The  assassins  smote  her 
upon  the  head  with  their  oars  and  boat-poles,  and  she  sank 
senseless  in  the  waves.  The  barge  soon  foundered ;  but  Agrip- 
pina floated  off  on  a  portion  of  the  wreck.  The  agents  of 
Nero,  supposing  they  had  effected  their  object,  swam  to  the 
shore. 

Agrippina,  in  the  early  dawn,  was  picked  up  by  a  small  boat, 

15 


226  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

and  conveyed  to  her  villa  at  Antium.  Shrewdly  she  pretended 
to  regard  the  adventure  as  an  accident.  She  despatched  a 
courier  to  inform  her  affectionate  son,  that,  through  the  mercy 
of  the  gods,  she  had  escaped  fearful  peril.  She  entreated  him 
not  to  be  needlessly  alarmed,  as  she  had  received  but  a  slight 
wound,  and  would  probably  soon  be  quite  restored. 

Nero  was  thunderstruck.  He  knew  his  mother  too  well  to  im- 
agine that  she  was  blind  to  the  stratagem  from  which  she  had 
BO  wonderfully  escaped.  He  felt  assured  that  she  would  at  once 
resort  to  some  desperate  measures  of  retaliation  and  of  self- 
defence.  Not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost.  He  despatched  a 
band  of  assassins  to  Antium  to  break  into  the  apartment  of 
his  mother,  and  with  their  daggers  immediately  to  secure  her 
death  beyond  all  question. 

The  armed  band  reached  the  villa  late  at  night,  burst  open 
the  gates,  and  advanced  rapidly  to  the  chamber  where  the  em- 
press had  retired  to  her  bed.  All  the  slaves  encountered  on 
the  way  were  seized.  In  the  chamber  of  Agrippina  a  dim 
light  was  burning,  and  one  maid  was  in  atteridMice.  The 
assassins  surrounded  the  bed.  The  leader  struck  her  a  heavy 
blow  on  the  head  with  a  club  :  the  rest  plunged  their  daggers 
into  her  heart.  She  slept  in  death,  the  guilty  mother  of  a 
demoniac  son. 

"  In  these  particulars,"  writes  Tacitus,  "  authors  are  unani- 
mous ;  but  as  to  whether  Nero  surveyed  the  breathless  body 
of  his  mother,  and  applauded  its  beauty,  there  are  those  who 
have  afi&rmed  it,  and  those  who  deny  it." 

After  the  murder  of  Agrippina,  which  was  so  openly  perpe- 
trated as  to  render  it  vain  to  attempt  any  disguise,  Nero,  either 
consumed  by  remorse  or  distracted  by  terror,  retired  to  Naples. 
It  is  said  that  his  appearance  and  movements  indicated  ■'shat 
he  was  the  victim  of  utter  misery ;  while  at  the  same  time 
his  demoniac  malice  blazed  forth  more  luridly  than  ever. 
He  sent  a  communication  to  the  senate,  stating  that  he  had 
caused  the  death  of  his  mother  because  she  was  plotting  his 
assassination.  His  sister  Octavia  and  his  wife  Poppsea  soon 
fell  victims  to  his  insane  vengeance  :  the  one  was  placed  in  a 


THE  FIRST  PERSECUTION.  227 

vapor-batL,  had  her  veins  opened  in  every  joint,  and  then  had 
her  head  cut  off ;  the  other  perished  from  a  brutal  kick. 

Immediately  there  ensued  a  series  of  executions  and  assassi- 
nations of  the  most  illustrious  men  of  E-ome,  who  were  accused 
of  conspiring  against  the  tyrant.  Tacitus  gives  the  details  of 
many  of  these  atrocities.  The  recital  would  be  but  wearisouie 
and  revolting  to  the  reader. 

Rome  was  stricken  with  terror.  No  one  was  safe  from  either 
the  poisoned  cup,  the  dagger,  or  the  headsman's  axe.  At  length, 
human  nature,  even  unspeakably  corrupt  as  it  had  become  in 
Rome,  could  endure  the  monster  no  longer.  Servius  Galba, 
seventy-two  years  of  age,  was  governor  of  Spain.  He  was  a 
man  of  unusual  virtues  for  those  times,  was  of  pensive,  thought- 
ful temperament,  and  endued  with  courage  which  no  peril 
could  intimidate.  Placing  himself  at  the  head  of  his  devoted 
legions,  he  openly  proclaimed  war  against  the  tyrant,  and  com- 
menced a  march  upon  Rome  for  his  dethronement.  The  tid- 
ings outstripped  the  rapid  movements  of  his  troops,  and  garri- 
son after  garrison  unfurled  the  banners  of  revolt. 

One  night,  Nero,  dressed  in  woman's  clothes,  was  in  one  of 
the  palaces  of  Rome,  surrounded  by  his  boon  companions,  male 
and  female,  indulging  in  the  most  loathsome  orgies,  when  a 
great  uproar  was  heard  in  the  streets.  A  messenger  was  sent 
to  ascertain  the  cause.  He  returned  with  the  appalling  tidings, 
that  Galba,  at  the  head  of  an  avenging  army,  was  marching 
rapidly  upon  Rome ;  that  insurrection  had  broken  out  in  the 
streets ;  and  that  a  countless  mob,  breathing  threatenings  and 
slaughter,  were  surging  toward  the  palace. 

The  wretched  tyrant,  as  cowardly  as  he  was  infamous,  was 
struck  with  dismay.  He  spran-g  from  the  table  so  suddenly 
as  to  overturn  it,  dashing  the  most  costly  vases  in  fragments 
upon  the  floor.  Beating  his  forehead  like  a  madman,  he  cried 
out,  "  I  am  ruined,  I  am  ruined  ! "  and  called  for  a  cup  of  poi- 
son. Suicide  was  the  common  resort  of  the  cowardly,  in 
those  days,  in  their  hours  of  wretchedness.  Nero  took  the 
poisoned  cup,  but  dared  not  drink  it.  He  called  for  a  dagger, 
and  examined  its  polished  point,  but  had  not  suflScient  nerve 


228  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

to  press  it  to  his  heart.  He  then  rushed  from  the  palace  in 
his  woman's  robes,  with  his  long  hair  fluttering  in  the  wind. 
Thus  disguised,  he  almost  flew  through  the  dark  and  narrow 
streets,  intending  to  plunge  into  the  Tiber.  As  he  reached 
the  bank,  and  gazed  upon  its  gloomy  waves,  again  his  courage 
failed. 

Several  of  his  companions  had  accompanied  him.  One  of 
them  suggested  that  he  should  flee  to  a  country-seat  about 
ihree  miles  from  Rome,  and  there  conceal  himself.  Insane 
with  terror,  bareheaded,  in  his  shameful  garb,  he  covered  his 
face  with  a  handkerchief,  leaped  upon  a  horse,  and  succeeded, 
through  a  thousand  perils,  in  gaining  his  retreat.  Just  before 
he  reached  the  villa,  some  alarm  so  frightened  him,  that  he 
leaped  from  his  horse,  and  plunged  into  a  f:hicket  by  the  road- 
side. Through  briers  and  thorns,  with  torn  clothes  and  lacer- 
ated flesh,  be  reached  the  insecure  asylum  he  sought. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Roman  senate  had  hurriedly  assem- 
bled. Emboldened  by  the  insurrection,  an  i  by  the  approach 
of  Galba,  they  passed  a  decree,  declaring  Nero  to  be  the 
enemy  of  his  country,  and  dooming  him  tc  death  more  majo- 
rum;  i.e.,  according  to  ancient  custom.  Some  one  of  Nero's 
companions  brought  him  the  tidings  in  his  hiding-place. 
Pallid  and  trembling,  he  inquired,  "  And  what  is  death 
moi'e  majorum  ? "  The  appalling  reply  was,  "  It  is  to  be 
stripped  naked,  to  have  the  head  fastened  in  the  pillory, 
and  thus  to  be  scourged  to  death." 

The  monster  who  had  amused  himself  in  witnessing  the 
tortures  of  others  recoiled  with  horror  from  this  dreadful 
infliction.  Seizing  a  dagger,  he  again  endeavored  to  nerve 
himself  to  plunge  it  into  his  heart.  A  prick  from  its  sharp 
point  was  all  that  he  could  summon  resolution  to  inflict.  He 
threw  the  dagger  aside,  and  groaned  in  terror.  Again  he 
strove  to  talk  himself  into  courage. 

"  Ought  Nero,"  said  he,  "  to  be  afraid  ?  Shall  the  emperor 
be  a  coward  ?     No !     Let  me  die  courageously." 

Again  he  grasped  the  dagger,  and  anxiously  examined  its 
keen  edge ;  and  again  he  threw  it  aside  with  a  groan  of  despair. 


THE  FIRST  PERSECUTION.  229 

Just  tlien  the  clatter  of  liorsemen  was  heard,  and  a  party 
of  dragoons  was  seen  approaching.  His  retreat  was  dis- 
covered, and  in  a  few  moments  Nero  would  be  helpless  in 
the  hands  of  his  enemies  :  then  there  would  be  no  possible 
escape  from  the  ignominious  and  agonizing  death.  In  the 
delirium  of  despair,  he  ordered  a  freedman  to  hold  a  sharp 
sword,  so  that  he  might  throw  himself  violently  against  it. 
He  thus  succeeded  in  severing  the  jugular  vein,  and  his 
life-blood  spouted  forth.  As  he  sank  upon  the  ground,  the 
soldiers  came  up.  He  looked  at  them  with  a  malignant 
scowl ;  and,  saying  "  You're  too  late  !  "  he  died. 

Thus  perished  this  monster  of  depravity.  It  is  said  that 
this  event  took  place  on  the  19tli  of  June,  A.D.  68.  Many 
Christians  at  the  time  supposed  Nero  to  be  the  antichrist. 
This  wretch  had  reigned  thirteen  years,  and  died  in  the  thirty- 
second  year  of  his  age.  In  view  of  his  career,  the  only  solu- 
tion upon  which  the  mind  can  repose  is  found  in  the  declara- 
tion of  Scripture,  "  After  death  cometh  the  judgment." 

These  events  occurred  eighteen  hundred  years  ago.  During 
the  long  and  weary  centuries  which  have  since  elapsed,  what  a 
spectacle  has  this  world  almost  constantly  presented  to  the 
eye  of  God !  The  billows  of  war  have,  with  scarcely  any 
intermission,  surged  over  the  nations,  consigning  countless 
millions  to  bloody  graves.  Pestilence  and  famine  have  ever 
followed  in  the  train  of  armies,  creating  an  amount  of  misery 
which  no  human  arithmetic  can  ever  gauge.  Slavery,  intem- 
perance, domestic  discord,  ungovernable  passions,  the  tyranny 
ttf  kings,  the  oppression  of  the  rich  and  powerful,  and  the 
countless  forms  in  which  man  has  trampled  upon  his  feebler 
brother-man,  have  made  this  world  indeed  a  vale  of  tears. 
The  student  of  history  is  appalled  in  view  of  the  woes  which, 
centiry  after  century,  man  has  visited  upon  his  feUow-man. 
For  all  this  there  is  and  can  be  no  remedy  but  in  the  religion 
of  Jesus.  Here  is  the  panacea  for  nearly  every  earthly  woe. 
Here,  and  here  only,  is  there  hope  for  the  world. 

Against  this  almost  universal  corruption  the  Christiana 
were   struggling.      The   conflict   seemed   hopeless.      In   this 


230  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

moral  warfare,  the  only  weapon  they  had  to  wield  was  the 
simple  preaching  of  the  gospel  of  Christ.  But  that  gospel,  by 
its  wonderful  triumphs,  has  proved  itself  to  be  "  the  wisdom 
of  God  and  the  power  of  God  to  salration."  It  is  refreshing 
to  read  a  letter  which  Clement,  the  bishop  of  Rome,  wrote  to 
the  church  at  Corinth  about  this  time.  We  can  quote  but 
one  paragraph  :  — 

"  Let  us  endeavor  to  be  of  the  number  of  those  who  hd|)e 
to  share  in  the  promises  of  God.  And  how  shall  we  accom- 
plish this,  my  dear  brethren  ?  If  our  minds  are  established  in 
the  faith ;  if  we  seek  in  all  things  to  please  God ;  if  we  bring 
ourselves  in  entire  accord  with  his  holy  will ;  if  we  foUow  the 
paths  of  truth,  renouncing  all  injustice,  avarice,  contention, 
anger,  deceptions,  complainings,  impiety,  pride,  vanity,  ambi- 
tion, —  then,  my  dear  brothers,  we  shall  be  in  the  path  which 
conducts  us  to  Jesus  Christ  our  Saviour.  Let  the  strong  help 
the  feeble,  and  let  the  feeble  respect  the  strong.  Let  the  rich 
give  to  the  poor,  and  let  the  poor  thank  God  that  he  has  given 
to  the  rich  the  means  of  supplying  their  wants.  He  who  has 
created  us  has  introduced  us  into  this  world,  which  he  has  so 
richly  prepared  for  our  abode.  Having  received  from  him 
so  many  favors,  we  ought  to  thank  him  for  all  things.  To  him 
be  glory  for  ever  and  ever.     Amen." 

Such  was  the  spirit  of  the  religion  of  Jesus.  To  banish 
this  gospel  from  the  world,  imperial  Rome  often  combined 
all  its  energies. 


CHAPTEE    X. 


BOMAir  EMPERORS,    GOOD   AND   BAD. 


^aracter  of  the  Roman  Army.- — Conspiracy  of  Otho.  —  Death  of  Galba. —  ViteV 
lluB  Emperor.  —  Revolt  of  the  Jews,  and  Destruction  of  Jerusalem.  — Reign  d 
Vespasian.  —  Character  of  Titus;  of  Domltlan.  —  Religion  of  Pagan  Rome. — 
Nerva.  — Anecdotes  of  Bt.  John.— Exploits  of  Trajan.  — Letter  of  Pliny.  —Let- 
ter of  Trajan. 


S  we  contemplate  the  awfal  scenes  of  depravity 
and  misery  witnessed  under  the  reign  of  many 
of  the  Roman  emperors,  the  sympathies  of  ths 
reader  are  naturally  excited  in  behalf  of  the  op- 
pressed millions.  But  it  is  a  melancholy  truth, 
that  the  people  were  as  had  as  the  rulers.  The 
assassin  and  his  victim,  the  oppressors  and  the 
oppressed,  the  emperor  in  his  palace,  the  nobles  in  their  castles, 
the  beggared  poor  in  their  hovels,  were  alike  merciless,  morally 
degraded,  and  depraved.  Probably  earth  has  never  witnessed 
a  more  diabolical  band  than  was  congregated  in  a  Roman  army. 
The  Roman  senate  which  had  deposed  Nero^  and  consigned 
him  to  death,  immediately  proclaimed  Galba  emperor.  He 
was  comparatively  a  worthy  man,  seventy-two  years  of  age, 
and  childless.  Conscious  of  the  awful  corruption  which  reigned 
at  Rome,  and  of  his  inability  to  stem  the  torrent ;  oppressed 
with  the  infirmities  of  years,  and  drawing  near  to  the  grave.  — 
he  adopted  as  his  successor  a  young  officer  in  the  army,  Piso 
Lucianus,  a  man  of  noble  character  and  of  rare  virtue.  But 
the  last  thing  that  the  army  desired  was  ft  virtuous  sovereign. 
The  soldiers,  accustomed  to  plunder  and  license,  desired  a  ruler 

231 


232  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

who  would  gratify  all  their  fierce  and  luxurious  desires.  They 
were  exceedingly  dissatisfied  with  the  restraints  which  Galba 
imposed  upon  them.  They  wished  for  a  t3'rant  who  would 
trample  down  the  nations,  and  who  would  allow  the  army  to 
sharo  in  the  plunder.  Consequently,  the  soldiers  were  ripe 
for  insurrection  both  against  Galba  and  Piso. 

There  was  a  man  in  the  army  named  Otho.  He  was  one 
of  the  vilest  of  the  vile  ;  and  had  been  so  intimately  the  friend 
and  accomplice  of  Nero,  that  he  had  ardently  hoped  for 
adoption.     Tacitus  says  £)f  him, — ■ 

"  Otho  was  a  stranger  from  his  earliest  days  to  every  fair 
pursuit,  and  in  the  pride  of  manhood  was  distinguished  for 
nothing  but  riot  and  debauchery.  His  emulation  in  luxury 
recommended  him  to  the  notice  of  Nero."  Most  of  the 
soldiers  favored  his  views,  and  the  creatures  of  Nero's  court 
zealously  supported  him  as  a  congenial  character.  Numbers 
lamented  the  loss  of  Nero,  and  longed  for  the  former  laxity 
of  discipline. 

Otho  formed  a  conspiracy  in  the  army  against  Galba.  He 
ridiculed  his  severe  discipline,  the  restraints  he  imposed  up- 
on his  troops,  and  his  neglect  to  enrich  them  with  plunder, 
and  pamper  them  with  luxuries.  He  assured  them  that  Piso 
would  be  like  Galba  ;  that  he  would  in  the  same  way  restrain 
their  passions,  and  enforce  rigid  discipline.  With  talent  for 
sarcasm,  he  scouted  the  idea  of  justice  and  mercy,  declaring 
'*  that  the  affectation  of  practising  such  virtues,  as  they  were 
called,  was  ridiculous  in  such  a  world  as  this." 

The  conspiracy  ripened.  At  the  appointed  time,  the  sol- 
diers,  with  clashing  of  weapons  and  loud  huzzas,  raised  Otho 
upon  their  shoulders,  and  declared  him  to  be  their  emperor. 
The  virtuous  Galba  was  pursued  with  malignity,  even  more 
intense  than  that  which  had  driven  Nero  to  suicide.  The 
scene  of  his  death  is  minutely  described  by  Tacitus.  Tumultu- 
ous thousands  of  the  Roman  soldiers,  with  oaths  and  impreca- 
tions, rushed  from  their  encampment  into  the  city  to  the  pal- 
ace of  the  emperor.  A  resistless  mob  of  armed  demoniac  men 
surged  through  the  streets.     The  populace  fled  before  them. 


ROMAN  EMPERORS,   GOOD  AND  BAD.  233 

Galba  had  left  the  palace,  and  was  on  his  way  to  the  Forum. 
The  infuriate  mob  of  infantry  and  cavalry  scattered  in  all 
directions.  Some  burst  into  the  Forum,  and  trampled  the 
senators  beneath  their  feet.  Galba  was  seized.  As  the  assas- 
sins gathered  around  him,  he  looked  up,  and  calmly  said,  — 

"  If  you  wish  for  my  head,  here  it  is.  I  am  willing  at  any 
time  to  surrender  it  for  the  good  of  the  Roman  people." 

Scarcely  had  he  uttered  these  words  ere  a  sinewy  soldier, 
with  one  blow  of  his  heavy  broadsword,  struck  off  his  head, 
and  it  rolled  upon  the  piivement.  Another  soldier  seized  it  by 
the  hair,  and  thrust  a  pike  into  the  palpitating  flesh ;  and,  with 
the  shoutings  of  tumultuous  thousands,  the  gory  trophy  was 
paraded  through  the  streets.  Such  were  the  scenes  which 
were  witnessed  in  pagan  Kome  while  the  disciples  of  Jesus 
were  preaching  in  obscurity,  but  with  invincible  zeal,  from 
house  to  house,  the  gospel  of  love  to  God,  and  love  to  man. 

The  senate,  overawed  by  the  army,  was  compelled  to  ratify 
this  foul  assassination,  and  to  declare  Otho  emperor.  We  have 
now  reached  the  year  of  our  Lord  67. 

There  was  at  this  time  an  ambitious  but  able  general,  named 
Vitellius,  in  command  of  a  powerful  Roman  army  upon  the 
Danube.  He  had  secured  the  good-will  of  his  fiendlike  troops 
by  the  plunder  which  he  allowed  them,  and  the  license  in 
which  they  were  permitted  to  indulge.  He  refused  to  recog- 
nize Otho  as  emperor ;  and,  raising  the  standard  of  revolt,  by 
a  vote  of  the  army  caused  the  imperial  dignity  to  be  conferred 
upon  himself.  Vitellius,  at  the  head  of  his  army,  marched  upon 
Rome  to  wrest  the  sceptre  from  the  hands  of  his  rival.  Otho 
advanced  to  meet  him.  The  armies  were  each  seventy  thou- 
sand strong.  They  encountered  each  other  on  the  plains  of 
Lombf^rdy,  near  Mantua.  The  battle  was  long  and  bloody. 
At  length,  the  legions  of  Otho  were  utterly  routed  and  dis- 
persed. Dismissing  most  of  his  attendants,  the  ruined  adven- 
turer fell  upon  his  own  sword,  and  died.  He  had  previously 
requested  his  slaves  to  bury  him  immediately.  "This  had 
been  his  earnest  request,"  writes  Tacitus,  "lest  his  head  should 
be  cut  off,  and  be  made  a  public  spectacle." 


234  BISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

VitelliuSj  who  at  once  compelled  the  senate  to  proclaim  him 
emperor,  was  not  by  nature  a  tyrannical  man ;  but  he  waj« 
luxurious  and  dissolute  in  the  extreme,  surrendering  himself 
to  every  possible  form  of  self-indulgence.  He  even  equalled 
Nero  in  his  unbridled,  shameless  profligacy.  It  is  said  that 
the  expenses  of  his  table  alone,  for  a  period  of  four  months, 
amounted  to  a  sum  equal  to  about  thirty  million  doUars. 

There  was  little  in  the  character  of  such  a  man  to  excite 
either  respect  or  fear.  A  conspiracy  was  soon  formed  for  his 
overthrow.  There  was  quite  a  distinguished  general,  named 
Vespasian,  in  command  of  the  Koman  army  in  Judaea.  He 
had  acquired  celebrity  in  the  wars  of  Germany  and  Britain 
and,  having  been  consul  at  Rome,  had  many  acqua^intances 
of  influence  there.  Vespasian  entered  into  a  correspondence 
with  the  conspirators.  It  was  not  difficult  to  induce  his 
soldiers  to  proclaim  him  emperor. 

Vespasian,  remaining  himself  in  the  East,  sent  his  army, 
under  his  ablest  generals,  to  Rome.  A  terrible  battle  was 
fought  beneath  its  walls  and  through  its  streets,  during 
which  the  beautiful  capitol,  the  pride  of  the  city,  was  laid 
in  ashes.  The  troops  of  Vespasian  were  triumphant,  and  the 
opposing  ranks  were  utterly  crushed.  ViteUius,  as  cowardly 
as  he  was  infamous,  hid  in  the  cabin  of  a  slave.  He  was 
dragged  forth,  and  paraded  through  the  streets,  with  his 
hands  bound  behind  him,  and  with  a  rope  round  his  neck. 
After  enduring  hours  cf  ignominy,  derision,  and  torture,  ho 
was  beaten  to  death  by  the  clubs  of  the  soldiers.  His  body 
was  then  dragged  over  the  pavements ;  and  the  mangled  mass, 
having  lost  all  semblance  of  humanity,  was  thrown  into 
the  Tiber. 

The  obsequious  senate  immediately  united  with  the  vic- 
torious army  in  declaring  Vespasian  emperor.  While  these 
scenes  of  tumult  and  carnage  were  transpiring,  and  the  whole 
Koman  empire  was  desolated  with  poverty,  oppression,  and 
woe,  Christianity  was  making  rapid  and  noiseless  progress 
among  the  masses  of  the  people  in  many  remote  provinces  of 
the    empire  too  obscure  or  distant  to  attract  the  attention 


ROMAN  EMPERORS,   GOOD  AND  BAD.  235 

of  the  emperors.  The  teachings  of  Jesus  were  alike  adapted 
to  one  and  to  all,  to  every  condition,  and  to  every  conceivable 
circumstance  in  life.  The  doctrines  of  the  cross  came  with 
moral  guidance  and  with  unspeakable  consolation  to  all  who 
would  accept  them,  —  to  the  millions  of  bondmen ;  to  the 
despised  freedmen;  to  the  soldier;  to  centurions,  governors, 
and  generals ;  to  the  members  of  the  imperial  palace.  It 
said  to  all,  "  Earth  is  not  your  home :  lay  up  for  yourselves 
treasure  in  heaven.  Accept  life's  discipline,  bear  it  patiently, 
that  you  may  be  prepared  by  it  for  honor,  glory,  and  immor- 
tality in  heaven." 

The  Jews  in  Judsea  took  advantage  of  these  civil  discords 
to  rise  in  rebellion  against  their  Roman  masters.  Vespasian 
organized  an  army,  which  he  placed  under  his  son  Titus, 
to  quell  the  revolt.  When  Jesus  was  crucified  at  Jerusalem, 
the  Jews  said,  "  His  blood  be  upon  us  and  on  our  children." 
It  was  a  fearful  imprecation,  and  terribly  was  it  realized. 
Christ  had  minutely  foretold  the  utter  destruction  of  Jerusa- 
lem, so  "that  not  even  one  stone  should  be  left  upon  another." 

"  When  ye  shall  see  Jerusalem,"  said  Jesus,  "  compassed 
with  armies,  then  know  that  the  desolation  thereof  is  nigh. 
Then  let  them  which  are  in  Judsea  flee  to  the  mountains,  and 
let  them  which  are  in  the  midst  of  it  depart  out ;  and  let  not 
them  that  are  in  the  countries  enter  thereinto.  For  these 
bo  the  days  of  vengeance,  that  all  things  which  are  written 
may  be  fulfilled.  But  woe  unto  them  that  are  with  child,  and 
to  them  that  give  suck,  in  those  days !  for  there  shall  be 
great  distress  in  tLe  land,  and  wrath  upon  this  people.  And 
they  shall  fall  by  the  edge  of  the  sword,  and  shall  be  led  away 
captive  into  all  nations ;  and  Jerusalem  shall  be  trodden  down 
of  the  Gentiles."  ^ 

It  was  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  70.  Vials  of  woe,  which 
even  the  mystic  symbols  of  apocalyptic  vision  cannot  exag- 
gerate, were  poured  out  upon  the  doomed  city.  Human  natiire 
has  perhaps  never  before  nor  since  endured  such  woes.  It  is 
impossible  for  the  imagination  to  conceive  more  appalling  hor- 

>  Luke  xxi.  20-24. 


236  mSTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

rors,  or  sufferings  more  terrible,  tliaii  were  then  experienced. 
The  reader  will  find  those  scenes  of  rage,  despair,  and  misery, 
minutely  detailed  by  the  pen  of  Josephus.  It  requires  strong 
nerves  to  enable  any  one  to  peruse  the  revolting  narrative 
with  composure. 

Probably  the  disciples  of  the  Saviour,  warned  by  their 
divine  Master,  had  all  fled  from  Jerusalem  and  Judaea,  convey- 
ing the  tidings  of  the  gospel  wherever  they  went  in  their  wide 
dispersion.  Our  Saviour  had  urged  them  to  a  precipitate 
flight.  "  When'ye  therefore  shall  see,"  said  he,  "  the  abomi- 
nation of  desolation,  spoken  of  by  Daniel  the  prophet "  (refer- 
ring to  the  Koman  armies),  "  stand  in  the  holy  place,  then  let 
them  which  bo  in  Judaea  flee  into  the  mountains ;  let  him 
which  is  on  the  housetop  not  come  down  to  take  any  thing  out 
of  his  house  ;  neither  let  him  which  is  in  the  field  return  back 
to  take  his  clothes :  for  then  shall  be  great  tribulation,  such 
as  was  not  since  the  beginning  of  the  world  to  this  time ;  no, 
nor  ever  shall  be.  And,  except  those  days  shordd  be  shortened, 
there  should  no  flesh  be  saved ;  but,  for  the  elect's  sake,  those 
days  shall  be  shortened."  ^ 

The  siege  lasted  six  months.  The  city  was  entirely  demol- 
ished. A  million  of  Jews  perished  by  the  sword,  pestilence, 
and  famine.  A  hundred  thousand  who  were  taken  captive 
were  sold  into  slavery.  All  Judaea  was  thus  brought  again 
into  submission  to  Rome.  Titus,  laden  with  the  spoils  of  the 
city,  and  accompanied  by  his  long  train  of  captives,  returned 
in  triumph  to  E-ome.  He  was  received  with  universal  acclaim. 
The  signal  victory  he  had  achieved  strengthened  the  throne 
of  his  father.  In  commemoration  of  the  event,  a  triumphal 
arch  was  erected,  —  the  Arch  of  Titus.  This  massive  struc- 
ture, reared  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  remains  almost 
perfect  to  the  present  day.  It  stiU  attracts  the  thoughtftd 
gaze  of  every  tourist  in  Eome. 

Vespasian  proved  one  of  the  best  of  the  Roman  emperors. 
With  great  energy  and  wisdom,  he  devoted  himself  to  th« 
welfare  of  his  wide-spread  realms.     It  was  during  his  reign 

»  Matt.  xxiy.  15-22. 


ROMAN-  EMPERORS,    GOOD  AND  BAD.  237 

that  the  world-renowned  Coliseum  was  reared,  —  the  most 
gigantic  amphitheatre  in  the  world.  It  furnished  seats  for 
eighty  thousand  spectators,  and  standing-room  for  twenty 
thousand  more.  It  was  in  the  arena  of  this  vast  edifice  that 
subsequently  so  many  Christians,  with  a  hundred  thousand 
spectators  gazing  mockingly  upon  them,  endured  the  pangs 
and  won  the  crown  of  martrydom. 

But  under  Vespasian  there  was  no  persecution.  Indeed,  it 
is  probable,  that  he,  residing  so  long  in  Judaea,  had,  like  Felix, 
become  somewhat  acqaainted  with  Christian  doctrines ;  and, 
like  Agrippa,  he  may  have  been  almost  persuaded  to  become  a 
Christian.  The  teachings  of  Jesus  exert  an  ennobling  influ- 
ence far  beyond  the  bounds  of  the  organized  church ;  and  it 
is  certain  that  Vespasian  exhibited  a  character  of  humanity, 
of  purity,  of  interest  in  the  public  welfare,  very  different  from 
that  which  was  developed  by  most  of  the  Roman  emperors. 
StiU  there  is  no  evidence  that  he  became  an  acknowledged 
disciple  of  Jesus.  It  is  said  that  he  died  on  the  24th  of  June, 
A.D.  79,  after  a  prosperous  reign  of  ten  years. 

Feeling  himself  to  be  dangerously  ill,  he  remarked  to  those 
around  him,  derisively,  in  view  of  what  he  knew  would  be  the 
action  of  the  senate  in  voting  his  deification,  "  I  perceive  that 
I  am  about  to  become  a  god."  As  his  end  drew  near,  he  said, 
with  pride  which  he  could  not  have  learned  from  the  religion 
of  Jesus,  "  An  emperor  should  die  standing."  Aided  by  his 
friends,  he  rose  from  his  couch,  and,  while  sustained  by  theix 
arms,  expired. 

We  are  confirmed  in  our  view,  that  the  Emperor  Vespasian 
must  have  been  brought  in  some  degree  under  the  influence 
of  Christian  doctrine,  from  the  marvellous  change,  resembling 
true  conversion,  which  suddenly  took  place  in  the  character  of 
his  son  Titus,  who  succeeded  his  father  on  the  throne. 

In  early  years,  this  young  man  was  exceedingly  dissipated ; 
but  to  the  surprise  of  every  one,  and  without  any  known  cause 
which  history  has  transmitted  to  us,  he  abandoned  all  the 
vicious  practices  of  his  youth,  separated  himself  from  all  hia 
dissolute   companions,  and  commenced  a  life  of  integrity,  of 


238  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

purity  and  benevolence,  wliich  was  certf.inly  sucli  as  the 
religion  of  Jesus  enjoined.  With  devotion  hitherto  unexam- 
pled, he  consecrated  himself  to  the  welfare  of  his  realm,  and 
to  promoting  the  happiness  of  those  around  him.  One  of  his 
remarks,  illustrative  of  his  character,  has  survived  the  lapse 
of  eighteen  centuries.  It  will  continue  to  live  in  the  hearts 
of  men  so  long  as  earth  shall  endure.  At  the  close  of  a  day 
in  which  no  opportunity  had  occurred  of  doing  good,  he  ex- 
claimed sadly,  "Perdidi  diem,"  —  ^' I  have  Lost  a  day."  This 
truly  Christian  sentiment  is  beautifully  versified  in  the  words,  — 

"  Count  that  day  lost  whose  low-deicending  sun 
Views  at  thy  hand  no  worthy  action  done." 

It  was  during  the  reign  of  Titus,  in  A.D.  79,  that  the  cities 
of  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii  —  as  corrupt  in  all  conceivable 
abominations  as  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  could  possibly  have 
been  —  were  buried  beneath  the  lava  and  ashes  of  Vesuvius. 
They  were  discovered  early  in  the  last  century.  The  remains 
of  these  cities,  so  wonderfully  preserved,  and  now  being  brought 
to  light,  reveal  much  of  the  habits  and  social  customs  of  those 
days. 

We  know  not  that  Titus  was  a  Christian.  The  light  is 
very  dim  which  comes  down  to  us  through  these  long  centu- 
ries. But  it  is  certain,  that,  in  very  many  things,  he  mani- 
fested the  spirit  of  Christ.  The  reign  of  this  good  man  was 
short.  Titus  had  a  brother  Domitian,  an  utterly  depraved 
young  man.  He  was  to  Titus  as  Cain  to  Abel.  Anxious  to 
grasp  the  sceptre,  it  is  said  that  he  poisoned  his  brother 
Titus  when  he  had  attained  the  forty-first  year  of  his  age 
and  the  second  of  his  reign.  The  wretched  Domitian  ascended 
the  throne.  It  is  certain  that  he  had  heard  of  Jesus,  of 
Christianity.  The  guilty  are  always  suspicious.  Knowing 
that  the  Christians  regarded  Jesus  as  their  King,  that  they 
were  looking  for  his  second  coming  to  reign  as  their  Lord  and 
Master,  he  regarded  Jesus  as  a  formidable  rival.  Apprehen- 
sive that  there  might  be  some  heirs  of  Jesus  around  whom  the 
Christians  might  rally,  he  arrested  a  large  number  of  the  dis- 


ROMAN  EMPERORS,   GOOD  AND  BAD.  239 

ciples,  and  had  them  brought  before  him  for  examination. 
Anxiously  he  inquired  of  them  what  money  they  had  in  theijt 
treasury,  what  territory  they  possessed,  and  when  and  where 
the  reign  of  Jesus  would  commence.  The  disciples  assured 
him  that  they  had  neither  lands  nor  money.  In  proof,  they 
fchowed  him  their  hands,  indurated  by  toil.  They  assured 
him  that  the  kingdom  of  Jesus  was  to  be,  not  an  earthly  king- 
dom, but  a  heavenly  and  angelic ;  and  that  his  reign  would  not 
commence  until  the  end  of  the  world,  when  Jesus  would 
appear  in  clouds  of  glory. 

Domitian  was  by  no  means  satisfied  with  these  replies.  It 
was  the  general  belief  of  the  Christians,  that  Christ,  in  his 
second  coming,  might  appear  at  any  time.  This  was  appalling 
tidings  to  Domitian.  Such  a  dethronement  was  more  terrible 
than  any  oiher  which  could  be  thought  of.  He  hated  the 
Christians,  and  wreaked  undiscriminating  and  pitiless  ven- 
geance upon  them.  Many  were  driven  from  their  homes  into 
exile.  They  carried  with  them  into  the  remotest  provinces  of 
the  empire  the  glad  tidings  of  the  gospel.  Many  suffered 
death,  accompanied  by  all  conceivable  tortures. 

It  is  one  of  the  legends  of  the  Catholic  Church,  that  the 
aged  apostle  John,  being  then  at  Rome,  was,  by  the  order  of 
Domitian,  thrown  into  a  caldron  of  boiling  oil.  Miraculously 
he  escaped  without  injury.  He  was  then  banished  to  the  Isle 
of  Patmos.  It  was  there  that  he  was  favored  with  that  won- 
derful series  of  visions  recorded  in  the  book  of  Revelation. 
In  these  mystic  pages,  so  much  of  which  is  still  enigmatical, 
the  apostle  represents  what  was  to  happen  in  succeeding  ages, 
—  particularly  that  the  Church  should  suffer  persecution  ;  the 
punishment  of  its  persecutors  ;  the  ruin  of  Rome,  where  idol- 
atry reigned ;  the  destruction  of  idolatry  itself,  and  the  final 
glory  of  the  triumphant  Church.^ 

There  was  a  very  renowned  Roman  general,  by  the  name  of 
Agncola,  who,  under  Titus,  had  been  very  efficiently  employed 
in  Britain  in  endeavoring  to  civilize  the  barbarous  natives 
He  taught  them  many  of  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  mora 

1  L'Abb6  Fleury,  p  101. 


240  BISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

enlightened  Romans.  It  is  said  that  Domitian,  fearing  that 
Agricola  was  acquiring  reputation,  caused  him  to  he  poisoned. 

Sin  and  insanity  are  closely  allied.  Domitian  wished  to 
enjoy  the  splendors  of  a  Roman  triumph  ;  hut  he  had  never  won 
a  victory.  He  was  no  soldier.  Still  he  got  up  a  magnificent 
civil  and  military  display,  and  with  streaming  hanners,  and 
pealing  music,  and  the  tramp  of  armed  legions,  entered  Rome, 
charioted  like  a  conqueror  returning  from  the  most  triumphant 
campaign.  A  large  numher  of  slaves,  disguised  as  captives  of 
war,  were  led  in  the  train  to  grace  a  triumph  which  exposed 
Domitian  to  universal  ridicule  and  contempt.  He  assumed 
divine  honors ;  reared  statues  of  himself  in  gold  and  silver 
in  conspicuous  positions,  and  required  his  subjects  to  address 
him  as  a  god.  Any  who  were  suspected  of  being  unfriendly 
to  him  were  mercilessly  punished  with  torture  and  death. 
The  extravagance  of  his  expenditure  was  so  enormous,  that 
Martial  says,  in  one  of  his  epigrams,  — 

"  If  the  emperor  would  call  in  all  his  debts,  Jupiter  himself 
even  though  he  had  made  a  general  auction  of  Olympus, 
would  have  been  unable  to  pay  two  shillings  in  the  pound." 

The  tyrant  kept  a  tablet,  upon  which  he  wrote  the  names 
of  those  whom  he  had  doomed  to  die.  His  infamous  wife 
Domitia,  for  some  cause  suspecting  him,  got  a  peep  at  the 
tablet  while  her  husband  was  asleep.  To  her  consternation, 
she  found  her  own  name,  with  those  of  several  others,  on  the 
fatal  list.  She  immediately  entered  into  a  conspiracy  with 
them  for  the  assassination  of  her  husband.  One  of  the  con- 
spirators approached  the  emperor  under  the  pretence  of  pre- 
senting him  a  memoir  disclosing  a  conspiracy.  Assuming  that 
his  right  arm  was  crippled,  it  was  hung  in  a  sling.  As  he 
presented  the  memorial  with  his  left  hand,  he  suddenly  drew  a 
concealed  dagger,  and  plunged  it  into  the  heart  of  the  tyrant. 

Thus  died  Domitian,  as  is  reported,  on  the  17th  of  Septem- 
ber, A.D.  96.  He  was  but  forty-five  years  of  age,  and  had 
reigned  fifteen  years.  This  wicked  world  of  ours  has  pro- 
duced many  monsters.  Among  them  all,  it  would  be  difficult 
to  find  any  one  more  execrable  than  Domitian.     In  his  charac- 


ROMAN  EMPERORS,   GOOD  AND  BAD.  241 

ter,  not  a  redeeming  trait  could  be  found  to  mitigate  the  hatred 
and  contempt  with  which  he  was  universally  regarded.  The 
tidings  of  his  death  were  hailed  with  joy  throughout  the 
empire.  His  statues  were  demolished,  and  his  name  consigned 
to  infamy. 

"While  these  scenes  were  transpiring  within  the  bounds  of 
the  Roman  empire,  almost  nothing  is  known  of  the  condition 
of  the  world  outside  of  those  not  very  clearly-defined  limits. 
There  are  dim  and  shadowy  glimpses  of  vast  tribes  or  nations 
wandering  over  the  hills  and  plains,  as  savage,  as  ferocious,  as 
the  wild  beasts  in  whose  skins  they  were  clad.  They  seemed 
to  be  ever  struggling  in  battle,  as  they  surged  to  and  fro  over 
the  vast  plains  of  India,  around  the  shores  of  the  Caspian,  and 
through  the  defiles  of  the  Caucasus,  amidst  the  gloomy  forests 
extending  far  away  from  the  remote  banks  of  the  Danube  to 
the  regions  of  eternal  ice  and  snow.  Storms  of  passion  and 
cruelty  were  here  silently  accumulating,  which  were  soon  to 
burst  with  overwhelming  destruction  upon  the  Roman  empire. 
With  many  thinking  men  there  was  a  growing  apprehension 
of  these  barbarians,  who  were  gathering  in  such  appalling 
Bwarms  upon  the  frontiers  of  the  Roman  world.  Occasionally 
an  adventurous  traveller  would  penetrate  these  wilds,  and 
bring  back  a-^tounding  stories  of  the  numbers,  barbarism,  and 
warlike  ferocity,  of  these  innumerable  tribes. 

If  we  look  within  the  Roman  empire,  we  see  little  but  crime 
and  misery.  A  haughty  slaveholding  aristocracy,  few  in  num- 
ber, but  strong  in  the  resistless  power  of  the  Roman  legions, 
trampled  the  degraded  and  deprav^ed  millions  beneath  their 
feet.  The  Roman  a.i:istocracy  had  scarcely  a  redeeming  virtue. 
The  pillage  of  the  known  world  had  fallen  into  their  hands. 
There  were  those  of  them  who  possessed  estates  larger  than 
many  modem  kingdoms.  Their  vice  and  luxury  were  bound- 
less. They  seldom  moved  unless  guarded  by  a  troop  of  inso- 
lent retainers,  whose  devotion  thty  easily  purchased  by  spoils 
of  the  plundered. 

The  religion  of  pagan  Rome  consisted  of  a  gorgeous  display 
of  magnificent  temples,  shrines,  and  imposing  ceremonies.  It 
10 


242  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

was  a  religion  whicli  never  ennobled  the  character,  exerting 
no  influence  whatever  in  the  promotion  of  public  or  individual 
virtue.  Gibbon,  whose  authority  on  this  point  will  not  ba 
questioned,  states  "  that  the  private  character  and  conduct  of 
these  foul  idolaters  were  never  in  the  slightest  degree  re- 
strained by  the  religion  which  they  professed." 

Upon  the  very  day  of  the  death  of  Domitian,  the  senate, 
apprehensive  that  the  army  might  anticipate  them  in  the 
choice  of  a  successor,  conferred  the  imperial  purple  upon  Nerva, 
a  venerable  and  virtuous  man  of  sixty-five.  We  say  that  he 
was  venerable  and  virtuous ;  while  there  is  no  evidence  that 
he  was  a  disciple  of  Jesus.  It  is  impossible  now  to  ascertain 
how  far  the  influence  of  the  Jewish  religion,  with  its  ten 
commandments  and  its  revelation  of  one  only  God,  had  ex- 
tended beyond  the  Israelitish  organization,  or  how  far  the 
teachings  of  Jesus  had  penetrated  the  community  and  was 
influencing  the  lives  of  those  who  did  not  openly  profess  his 
name  ;  but  it  is  certain  that  here  and  there  individuals  were 
found,  though  few  in  number,  who  were  devout  men,  like  the 
Roman  centurion  Cornelius,  "  who  feared  God  with  all  his 
house,  which  gave  much  alms  to  the  people,  and  prayed  to 
God  alway." 

Such  a  man  was  Nerva.  He  immediately  recalled  all  the 
Christians  who  had  been  banished  from  E-ome  by  the  Emperor 
Domitian.  He  issued  a  decree  forbidding  that  any  one  should 
be  molested  for  cherishing  the  faith  either  of  the  Jews  or  of 
the  Christians.  The  dungeons,  which  were  filled  with  the  vic- 
tims of  tyranny,  he  opened,  and  liberated  the  captives.  The 
venerable  apostle  John  was  released  from  his  exile  at  Patmos, 
and  returned  to  Ephesus,  where  it  is  said  that  he  remained  for 
the  rest  of  his  life. 

It  is  often  difficult  to  discriminate  between  what  should  be 
regarded  as  true  and  what  as  fable  in  the  annals  of  those 
early  days.  But  the  following  incident,  given  by  the  Abb^ 
Fleury,  is  alike  interesting  and  instructive,  as  showing  the 
reputation  which  the  venerable  apostle  enjoyed.  It  is  said 
that  St.  John  one  day  attended  a  meeting  of  the  disciples  in 


ROMAN  EMPERORS,   GOOD  AND  BAD.  243 

a  small  village  a  few  miles  from  Ephesus.  A  young  man  of 
remarkable  personal  beauty  was  also  present,  who  was  so 
frank  and  genial  in  his  manners  as  at  once  to  win  the  tender 
regard  of  the  aflfectionate  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved.  Ad- 
dressing himself  to  the  pastor  of  the  church  after  the  young 
man  had  left,  the  apostle  said,  "In  the  presence  of  this 
church,  and  of  cur  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  I  commend 
to  your  especial  care  this  young  man."  As  he  left  to  return 
to  Ephesus,  he  very  emphatically  repeated  the  solemn  charge. 

The  bishop  or  pastor  of  the  church  sought  the  young  man, 
won  his  confidence,  taught  him  the  religion  of  Jesus,  and 
finally  by  baptism  received  him  to  the  church.  The  young 
man  having  partaken  of  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  supper, 
the  bishop  deemed  him  safe,  and  relaxed  his  vigilance.  But 
he,  being  exposed  anew  to  temptation,  fell  into  bad  company, 
was  lured  to  midnight  festivals,  gradually  abandoned  all  reli- 
gious restraints,  and  plunged  into  the  most  reckless  course  of 
dissipation.  His  last  state  became  so  much  worse  than  the 
first,  that  he  at  length  became  captain  of  a  gang  of  robbers, 
whose  rendezvous  was  among  the  mountains,  and  who  were 
the  terror  of  the  community. 

Some  time  after  this,  the  apostle  again  visited  this  rural 
church.  With  deep  interest  he  inquired  for  the  young  man. 
The  bishop,  with  tears  fiUing  his  eyes,  replied,  — 

"  He  is  dead,  —  dead  to  God.  He  has  become  a  bad  man 
and  a  robber.  Instead  of  frequenting  the  church,  he  haa 
established  himself  in  the  fastnesses  of  the  mountains." 

The  venerable  apostle  was  overwhelmed  with  grief.  After 
a  moment's  reflection,  he  said,  "  Bring  me  immediately  a  horse 
and  a  guide."  Without  any  preparation,  in  the  clothes  he 
then  wore,  he  advanced  towards  the  region  infested  by  the 
robbers.  Scarcely  had  he  entered  their  rocky  haunts  ere 
some  of  the  gang  who  were  on  the  lookout  arrested  the 
defenceless,  penniless,  humbly-clad  old  man.  "  Conduct  me 
to  your  chief,"  said  the  apostle  :  "  I  have  come  expressly  to  see 
him." 

The  captain  soon  made  his  appearance,  armed  from  head  to 


244  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

foot.  The  moment  he  recognized  the  apostle,  overwhelmed 
with  shame,  he  turned,  and  endeavored  to  escape  hy  flight. 
John,  notwithstanding  the  infirmity  of  years,  pursued  him 
with  almost  supernatural  speed,  and  cried,  — 

"  My  son,  why  will  you  fly  from  your  father,  an  old  man 
without  arms  ?  Have  pity  upon  me,  my  son :  do  not  fear. 
There  is  still  hope  that  you  may  be  saved.  I  will  plead  for 
you  with  Jesus  Christ.  If  it  be  necessary,  I  will  willingly 
giye  my  life  for  yours,  as  he  has  given  hie  for  us.  Believe  me 
that  Jesus  Christ  has  sent  me  to  you." 

At  these  words  the  young  man  arrested  his  steps,  but  could 
not  raise  his  eyes  from  the  ground.  He  threw  aside  his  arms, 
and  then,  trembling,  burst  into  tears,  weeping  bitterly.  When 
the  apostle  had  reached  him,  the  young  man  threw  his  arms 
around  the  neck  of  the  aged  Christian,  and  with  sobbings, 
either  of  remorse  or  penitence,  embraced  him  tenderly.  The 
apostle  endeavored  to  console  the  guilty  wanderer  from  the 
fold  of  Christ.  He  assured  him  that  Jesus  was  ready  to  for- 
give all.  He  led  him  back  to  the  church,  engaged  all  the  dis- 
ciples to  pray  for  him,  and  kept  him  constantly  by  his  side 
as  a  companion  and  a  friend.  Under  these  influences,  it  is 
said  that  the  prodigal  became  a  true  penitent,  re-entered  the 
church,  and  ever  after  continued  one  of  its  brightest  ornaments. 

It  was  at  Ephesus  that  John  wrote  the  Gospel  that  bears 
his  name,  and  also  his  three  Epistles.  It  is  said,  that  in  hia 
extreme  old  &ge,  when  his  faculties  of  body  and  mind  were  so 
enfeebled  that  he  could  not  make  a  continuous  discourse,  he 
would  frequently  rise  in  the  prayer-meetings  of  the  church, 
simply  repeating  the  words,  "  My  dear  children,  love  one  an- 
other." When  some  of  the  brethren,  wearied  by  the  continued 
utterance  of  the  same  sentiment,  inquired  of  him  why  he 
always  repeated  the  same  words,  he  replied,  "Because  this  is 
^■he  commandment  of  our  Lord.  If  you  keep  this  command- 
ment, you  will  keep  aU  the  rest."  The  venerable  apostle  died 
at  Ephesus  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  99. 

The  Emperor  Nerva,  because  he  was  a  good  man,  was  ex- 
tremely unpopular  with  the  army,  and  with  the  aristocracy, 


ROMAN  EMPERORS,   GOOD  AND  BAD.  245 

whose  wealth  was  derived  from  plundering  the  helpless,  Feel- 
ing the  infirmities  of  years,  and  having  no  children,  Nerva 
looked  ahout  him  for  some  available  candidate  to  whom  he 
could  transmit  the  crown.  There  was  a  distinguished  Roman 
general,  named  Trajan,  at  the  head  of  an  army  upon  the 
Danube.  He  was  stationed  there  to  resist  the  barbarians  from 
the  north,  who  were  now  making  frequent  inroads  into  the 
Roman  empire,  burning  and  plundering  without  mercy.  Tra- 
jan constructed  abridge  across  the  Danube.  The  ruins  of  this 
stupendous  structure  of  twenty-two  arches  still  remain,  testi- 
fying to  the  amazing  skill  of  the  Roman  engineers.  Across 
this  bridge  the  impetuous  general  marched  his  legions,  and, 
constructing  a  military  road  for  their  advance,  pursued  the 
barbarians  through  the  wilds  of  Dacia  to  the  River  Dneister, 
chastising  them  with  terrible  severity.  The  importance  of 
this  conquest  was  deemed  so  great,  that,  in  commemoration 
of  the  event,  a  magnificent  monument  was  reared  in  Rome. 
This  world-renowned  shaft  —  the  Column  of  Trajan,  a  hundred 
and  eighteen  feet  in  height  —  still  stands,  one  of  the  most 
admired  works  of  art  in  the  world.  Upon  a  spiral  belt  in- 
twined  around  it  were  sculptured  the  principal  events  of  the 
expedition.  Napoleon  I.  adopted  the  Column  of  Trajan  as 
the  model  of  the  still  more  lofty  and  imposing  column  raised 
in  the  Place  Vendome  in  honor  of  the  French  army. 

Nerva  pronounced  Trajan  his  heir.  Hardly  had  he  taken 
this  important  step  ere  he  suddenly  died,  after  a  reign  of  but 
little  more  than  a  year.  Trajan,  who,  unopposed,  assumed 
the  sceptre,  though  exceedingly  ambitious  of  military  renown, 
and  imposing  upon  himself  no  restraints  in  sensual  indulgence, 
was  a  very  intelligent,  and  naturally  a  kind-hearted  man. 
But  he  could  not  look  with  a  friendly  eye  upon  the  advances 
which  Christianity  was  making.  The  teachings  of  Jesus 
condemned  both  his  military  career  and  his  personal  habits. 

Pliny,  called  the  Younger,  was  then  governor  of  Pontus,  in 
A.sia  Minor.  There  were  very  many  Christians  within  his 
realms.  Very  severe  edicts  had  been  issued  from  Rome  against 
them.      It  was  Pliny's  duty  to  see  these   decrees   executed. 


246  BISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

But  hifl  philosophic  mind  and  humane  spirit  recoiled  from 
consigning  to  torture  and  to  death  men,  women,  and  children 
in  whom  he  could  see  no  crime  worthy  of  punishment.  He 
accordingly  wrote  to  the  Emperor  Trajan  the  following  letter, 
which  has  been  transmitted  to  us  By  Eusebius :  — ■ 

"  I  deem  it  my  duty,  sire,  to  consult  your  majesty  upon  all 
those  questions  respecting  which  I  am  in  doubt ;  for  who 
can  better  guide  me  in  my  perplexities,  or  instruct  me  in  my 
ignorance?  I  have  never  been  present  at  the  trial  of  the 
Christians ;  therefore  I  do  not  know  for  what  they  are  punished, 
or  with  what  crimes  they  are  charged :  but  I  have  many 
doubts  whether  regard  should  not  be  paid  to  the  difference  of 
age  ;  whether  the  most  tender  children  should  not  be  distin- 
guished from  those  of  maturer  years ;  whether  those  who  repent 
should  be  entitled  to  a  pardon ;  or  whether  it  should  be  of  any 
avail  that  one  who  has  once  been  a  Christian  is  no  longer 
SUCH.  It  is  also  a  question  with  me  whether  the  name  alone 
should  be  punished,  without  any  other  crime,  or  the  crimes 
usually  attached  to  that  name. 

"Still  the  following  is  the  course  which  I  have  adopted 
towards  those  who  have  been  brought  before  me  as  Christians : 
I  have  interrogated  them  if  they  were  such.  When  they 
have  confessed  it,  I  have  asked  them  a  second  and  a  third 
time,  threatening  them  with  punishment.  If  they  have  per- 
severed in  the  declaration,  I  have  pronounced  judgment 
against  them;  for  I  can  have  no  doubt,  that,  whatever  may  be 
the  character  of  the  Christian  faith,  inflexible  obstinacy  merits 
punishment. 

"  There  are  others  of  these  fanatical  persons  whom  I  have 
ordered  to  be  sent  to  Rome,  since  they  were  E-oman  citizens. 
Accusations,  as  is  usual  in  such  cases,  are  greatly  multiplied, 
and  very  many  are  denounced  to  me.  An  anonymous  pro- 
scription-list has  been  made  out,  containing  the  names  of  many 
who  deny  that  they  are,  or  ever  have  been.  Christians. 

"  When  I  have  seen  those  accused  worshipping  the  gods 
with  me,  and  offering  incense  to  your  image  which  I  have 
erected  among  the  statues  of  the  gods,  and,  most  of  all,  when 


ROMAN  EMPERORS,    GOOD  AND  BAD.  247 

they  hare  abjured  Christ,  I  have  thought  it  my  duty  to  set 
them  at  liberty ;  for  I  am  told  that  it  ia  impossible  to  compel 
those  who  are  truly  Christians  to  do  either  of  these  things. 

"  So  far  as  I  can  learn,  the  only  fault  or  error  of  which  the 
Christians  are  guilty  consists  in  this :  They  are  accustomed 
to  assemble  on  a  certain  day  before  the  rising  of  the  sun,  and 
to  sing  together  a  hymn  in  honor  of  Christ  as  a  god.  Instead 
of  binding  themselves  to  the  commission  of  any  crime,  they  take 
a  solemn  oath  not  to  be  guilty  of  fraud  or  robbery  or  impuri- 
ty, or  any  other  wrong.  They  promise  never  to  violate  their 
word,  never  to  be  false  to  a  trust.  After  this  they  retire,  soon 
to  meet  again  to  partake  of  a  simple  and  innocent  repast* 
but  from  this  they  abstained  after  the  ordinance  I  issued,  ii 
accordance  with  your  orders,  prohibiting  the  people  from  as 
5embling  together. 

"  The  repasts  of  the  Christians  were  innocent,  although  the 
calumny  has  been  widely  diffused  that  they  stifled  an  infant 
and  ate  it.  I  thought  it  necessary,  in  order  to  ascertain  the 
truth,  to  subject  to  the  torture  two  females  who  had  served  at 
thase  feasts ;  but  I  could  detect  nothing  but  an  unreasonable 
superstition. 

"  This  subject  has  seemed  to  me  the  more  worthy  of  investi- 
gation in  consequence  of  the  great  numbers  of  the  accused. 
Many  persons,  of  all  ftq:es,  of  both  sexes,  and  of  every  condi- 
tion in  life,  are  placed  in  peril.  The  superstition  has  infested 
not  only  the  cities,  but  the  villages  and  the  remote  rural  dis- 
tricts. But  it  seems  to  me  that  it  can  be  arrested  and  exter- 
minated. Certain  it  is  that  the  temples  of  the  gods,  which 
had  been  almost  abandoned,  have  begun  to  be  frequented. 
Solemn  sacrifices,  after  long  interruption,  are  again  celebrated. 
Even  in  the  most  sparsely-settled  districts,  the  victims  for 
sacrifice  are  to  be  seen.  Hence  one  may  judge  of  the  large 
number  of  those  who  would  return  to  the  gods  if  an  oppor- 
tunity were  given  for  repentance." 

This  letter  was  written  about  the  year  of  our  Lord  106. 
Trajan,  in  his  reply,  says, — 

"You  have  done  perfectly  right,  my  dear  Pliny,  in   the 


248  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

inquiry  you  have  made  concerning  Cliristians ;  for  truly  no 
one  general  rule  can  be  laid  down  which  can  be  applied  to  all 
cases.  They  must  not  be  sought  after.  If  they  are  brought 
before  you,  and  convicted,  let  them  be  capitally  punished  ;  yet 
with  this  restriction,  —  that  if  any  renounce  Christianity,  and 
evidence  their  sincerity  by  supplicating  our  gods,  however 
suspected  they  may  be  for  the  past,  they  shall  obtain  pardon 
for  the  future  on  their  repentance.  But  anonymous  libels  in 
no  case  ought  to  be  noticed ;  for  the  precedent  would  be  of  the 
worst  sort,  and  perfectly  incongruous  with  the  maxims  of  my 
government." 

This  response  of  the  emperor  checked  in  some  degree  the 
persecutions  with  which  the  Christians  were  menaced ;  but  it 
did  not  prevent  their  enemies  from  inflicting  upon  them,  under 
various  pretexts,  all  the  injury  in  their  power.  In  many 
places  the  populace,  and  in  others  the  magistrates,  pursued 
them  with  obloquy  and  oppression ;  so  that,  while  there  was  no 
general  and  declared  persecution,  they  were  everywhere  ex- 
posed to  insult  and  outrage. 


THE   martyr's   faith. 


CHAPTER    XL 


MARTYRDOM. 


n»e  Martyrdom  of  Ignatius.  — Death  of  Trajan.  — Succession  of  Adrian.- Infldel 
Assaults.  —  Celsus.  —  The  Apology  of  Quadrat.  —  The  Martyrdom  of  Sym- 
phorose  and  her  Sons. —  Character  and  Death  of  Adrian. — Antoninus. — 
Conversion  of  Justin  Martyr.  — His  Apology.  —  Marcus  Aurellus.— Hostility 
of  the  Populace.  —  The  Martyrdom  of  Polycarp. 


T  the  commencement  of  the  second  century,  Igna- 
tius was  bishop  or  pastor  of  the  church  in  Anti- 
och,  in  Syria.  He  had  occupied  the  post  for 
forty  years,  and  had  obtained  a  very  high  reputa- 
tion for  devout  character  and  Christian  zeal.  The 
Emperor  Trajan,  who  had  issued  orders  through- 
out the  empire,  that  those  refusing  to  worship  the 
pagan  gods,  and  persisting  in  Christianity,  should  be  put  to 
death,  passing  with  his  victorious  army  from  the  banks  of  the 
Danube  to  combat  the  barbarians  of  the  East,  stopped  for  a 
time  at  Antioch.  Ignatius  was  brought  before  him,  charged 
with  the  crime  of  being  a  Christian.  The  emperor  sternly 
inquired  of  him,  "  Why  do  you  disobey  our  orders,  and  influ- 
ence others  to  ruin  themselves  by  doing  the  same  ?  " 

Ignatius   replied,  "I  must  be  obedient  to  God,  whom  I  bear 
in  my  heart." 

"  Who  is  the  God,"  asked  Trajan,  "  whom  you  bear  in  your 
heart  ?  " 

"  Jesus  Christ,"  was  the  reply. 

"  And  do  you  not  believe  that  we  bear  in  our  hearts   those 

249 


250  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

gods  who  combat  with  us  against  our  enemies  ?  "  was  the  ques- 
tion of  Trajan. 

The  Christian  bishop  boldly  replied,  "You  deceive  yourself 
in  calling  the  demons  of  the  Gentiles  gods.  There  is  but  one 
God,  who  has  made  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  the  sea,  and 
all  which  they  contain ;  and  there  is  but  one  Jesus  Christ,  the 
only  Son  of  God,  to  whose  kingdom  I  aspire." 

Trajan  replied,  "  Do  you  speak  of  him  who  was  crucified 
under  Pontius  Pilate  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  responded  Ignatius :  "  he  has  made  atonement  for 
my  sins,  and  has  put  all  the  malice  of  Satan  under  their  feet 
who  carry  him  in  their  hearts." 

"  Do  you,  then,  carry  in  your  heart  him  who  was  crucified  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  was  the  response ;  "  for  it  is  written,  'I  will  dwell  in 
them,  and  walk  with  them.'  " 

Trajan  was  irritated,  and  angrily  replied,  "  Since  Ignatius 
confesses  that  he  carries  in  his  heart  him  that  was  crucified, 
we  command  that  he  be  conveyed  in  chains,  under  a  guard  of 
soldiers,  to  Rome,  there  to  be  thrown  to  the  beasts,  for  the 
entertainment  of  the  people." 

The  venerable  bishop  was  hurried  by  his  guard  to  Seleucia. 
There  he  took  ship  for  Smyrna.  In  this  city  he  had  an  inter- 
view with  the  illustrious  Christian  pastor  Poly  carp,  who  was 
soon  to  follow  him  in  the  path  to  martrydom.  Prom  Smyrna 
he  was  conveyed  to  Troas,  and  thence  to  Neapolis.  Having 
found  a  ship  in  one  of  the  seaports  of  the  Adriatic,  he  sailed 
to  Ostia,  near  Rome.  Here  he  was  met  by  a  large  number  of 
Christians,  who  were  overwhelmed  with  grief  in  view  of  his 
cruel  and  inevitable  doom.  Ignatius,  however,  who  was  cheer- 
ful, and  even  happy,  as  he  looked  forward  to  his  approaching 
martyrdom,  consoled  them  with  touching  words  of  love  and 
afiiection.  The  hour  for  the  sacrifice  came.  The  Coliseum  was 
crowded  with  the  jeering  multitude,  filling  all  its  vast  expanse, 
to  enjoy  the  spectacle.  The  venerable  bishop  was  placed  in  the 
centre  of  the  arena. 

As  the  iron  doors  of  the  dens  were  opened,  a  large  number 
©f  ferocious  wild  beasts,  gaunt  with  famine,  with  loud  loarings, 


MARTYRDOM.  251 

and  lashing  their  sides  with  rage,  rushed  into  the  enclosure. 
Sharp  and  short  was  the  agony  which  this  benevolent  disciple 
of  Jesus  was  called  to  endure.  The  famished  beasts,  lions  and 
tigers,  leaped  upon  him ;  and  scarcely  a  moment  elapsed  ere  he 
was  torn  limb  from  limb,  and  devoured.  Nothing  remained 
but  one  or  two  of  the  larger  bones.  A  hundred  thousand  pa- 
gans raised  a  shout  of  applause ;  but  louder  was  the  acclaim 
as  clustering  angels  gathered  around  the  Christian  who  had 
been  faithful  unto  death,  welcoming  him  to  his  heavenly  home. 

While  these  tragic  scenes  were  transpiring  in  Rome,  Trajan 
was  pushing  his  conquests  on  the  distant  shores  of  the  Persian 
Gulf.  He  was  seized  with  sickness  and  pain ;  and  it  was  soon 
evident  that  the  hour  of  his  death  was  near  at  hand.  In  a 
state  of  extreme  dejection  and  languor,  he  bade  adieu  to  the 
army,  and  by  short  stages  endeavored  to  reach  Rome.  But 
inexorable  Death  could  not  be  appeased.  He  had  advanced 
only  as  far  as  Cilicia  when  he  sank  into  the  grave.  His  guilty 
spirit  ascended  to  that  tribunal  to  which  he  had  so  cruelly 
sent  Ignatius  before  him. 

Trajan,  on  leaving  the  Persian  Gulf,  had  intrusted  the  com- 
mand of  his  army  to  his  nephew  Adrian,  a  man  of  much 
military  lenown.  The  army  proclaimed  him  emperor.  The 
senate  at  Rome  ratified  the  appointment.  Adrian  was  kind 
to  his  friends,  demoniacal  to  his  enemies.  He  had  many 
virtues,  and  many  terrible  vices. 

Christianity  was  by  this  time  very  widely  extended  through- 
out the  Roman  world.  Many  new  sects  sprang  up,  and  fanati- 
cal and  immoral  heresies  arose.  Hence  the  reputation  of 
Christianity  suffered  severely.  AU  these  religious  adventurers, 
endeavoring  to  establish  new  sects,  many  of  them  influenced 
by  the  worst  of  motives,  assumed  the  name  of  Christians. 
The  extravagances  which  they  taught,  and  the  abominations 
in  which  they  indulged,  in  many  places,  caused  the  very  name 
of  Christian  to  be  regarded  with  contempt  and  odium.  The 
pagans  were  by  no  means  disposed  to  discriminate  between 
the  true  disciples  of  Jesus  and  those  miserable  fanatics  who 
were  called  by  the  Christian  name. 


262  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Am  the  new  religion  gained  in  strength,  the  antagonism  of 
its  opponents  grew  more  virulent.  Several  men  of  letters 
arose,  who  wrote  against  Christianity  with  great  force  of  argu- 
ment, and  power  of  sarcasm.  Probably  no  infidel  writer  in 
any  age  has  surpassed  the  Epicurean  philosopher  Celsus  in 
the  shrewd  adaptation  of  his  writings  to  influence  the  popular 
mind :  indeed,  from  that  day  to  this,  infidel  writers  have  done 
little  more  than  repeat  his  arguments.  He  overwhelmed  the 
Christians  with  calumnies  and  contempt. 

These  attacks  influenced  intelligent  Christians  to  write  in 
defence  of  their  faith.  The  Emperor  Adrian,  in  the  year  140, 
visited  Athens.  Quadrat,  the  bishop  of  the  church  there,  a  man 
of  much  ability,  wrote  an  apology  in  defence  of  the  Christian 
faith.  He  presented  a  copy  to  the  Emperor  Adrian.  It  seems 
probable  that  the  argument  exerted  a  great  influence  upon  the 
mind  of  the  emperor;  for,  while  in  Athens,  he  declared  himself 
so  favorably  impressed  with  what  he  could  learn  of  the  faith 
and  conduct  of  Christians,  that  he  was  unwilling  that  they 
should  any  longer  be  exposed  to  persecution.  He  even  ex- 
pressed the  wish  that  Christianity  should  be  recogoiized  as  one 
of  the  religions  of  K-ome. 

To  a  governor  of  one  of  the  provinces  who  wrote  a  letter  on 
that  subject  he  replied,  "If  the  people  of  the  province  will 
appear  publicly,  and  make  open  charges  against  the  Christians, 
BO  as  to  give  them  an  opportunity  of  answering  for  themselves, 
let  them  proceed  in  that  manner  only,  and  not  by  rude  de- 
mands and  mere  clamors.  If  any  thus  accuse  them,  and  show 
that  they  have  committed  any  off'ence  against  the  laws,  do  you 
decide  according  to  the  nature  of  the  crime  committed.  But, 
by  Hercules  1 "  exclaims  the  impetuous  emperor,  "  if  the  charge 
be  a  mere  calumny,  do  you  estimate  the  enormity  of  the  offence, 
and  punish  the  calumniator  as  he  deserves." 

Adrian  had  erected  upon  the  banks  of  the  Tiber,  near  Rome, 
a  very  magnificent  palace.  With  characteristic  fickleness,  he 
decided  to  dedicate  it  to  the  pagan  gods.  The  oracles  were  con- 
sulted. They  returned  the  response,  probably  through  the  cun- 
ning of  the  idolatrous  priests,  that  the  Christian  widow  Sym- 


MARTYRDOM.  253 

phorose,  with  her  seven  sons,  was  exciting  the  displeasure  of 
the  gods  by  their  worship  of  the  Christians'  God ;  and  the 
emperor  was  promised,  if  he  would  sacrifice  them,  he  should 
be  blessed  in  all  his  undertakings.  Adrian  ordered  Sympho- 
rose  and  her  sons  to  be  brought  before  him.  At  first  he 
employed  very  mild  measures,  and  in  kind  tones  entreated 
them  to  offer  sacrifices  to  the  pagan  gods. 

Symphorose  replied,  "My  husband  and  my  brother  were 
both  your  tribunes.  They  suffered  many  torments  for  the 
name  of  Jesus,  rather  than  sacrifice  to  idols.  By  their  death 
they  have  vanquished  your  demons.  They  chose  rather  to  be 
beheaded  than  to  consent  to  sin.  The  death  which  they 
have  suffered  has  covered  them  with  ignominy  in  the  sight 
of  men,  but  has  crowned  them  with  glory  before  the  angels." 

The  emperor  was  irritated,  and  began  to  threaten. 

"  Unless  you  sacrifice,"  said  he,  "  with  your  sons,  to  the  all- 
powerful  gods,  I  will  offer  you  all  up  in  sacrifice  to  them." 

The  Christian  matron  replied,  "  Your  gods  cannot  receive 
me  in  sacrifice ;  but  if  I  am  burned  for  the  name  of  Jesus 
Christ,  my  God,  I  shall  render  the  flames  to  which  your 
demons  are  consigned  more  tormenting." 

The  emperor  curtly  rejoined,  "  Take  your  choice :  either 
sacrifice  to  my  gods,  or  die  miserably." 

"  Do  you  think,"  said  Symphorose  meekly,  "  that  fear  will 
cause  me  to  yield?  It  is  my  desire  to  rejoin  my  husband, 
whom  you  have  slain  for  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ." 

The  emperor  ordered  her  to  be  taken  to  the  Temple  of  Her- 
cules. There  she  was  scourged,  and  then  hung  by  the  hair  of 
her  head.  As  she  still  remained  firm,  he  ordered  her  to  be 
thrown  into  the  river,  with  a  large  stone  tied  around  her  neck. 
The  savage  deed  was  immediately  performed ;  and  the  body 
of  the  heroic  Christian  martyr  disappeared  beneath  the  waves. 
The  next  day,  the  emperor  caused  her  seven  sons  to  be  brought 
before  him.  In  vain  he  exhorted  them  to  sacrifice  to  the 
idols.  Seeing  all  his  menaces  to  be  unavailing,  he  erected 
seven  stakes,  and  bound  the  brothers  to  them  with  cords.  He 
©rdered  a  different  death  for  each  one.     The  first,  named  Cres- 


254  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

cent,  had  his  throat  cut.  The  second,  Julian,  was  pierced 
through  the  breast  with  a  pike.  The  third,  Nemesius,  waa 
struck  to  the  heart  with  a  dagger.  Thus  they  a!l  perished. 
Their  mutilated  bodies  remained  during  the  day  exposed  to 
the  jeers  of  brutal  pagans.  The  next  morning  the  emperor 
ordered  the  corpses  to  be  collected  and  thrown  into  a  ditch. 
The  Christians  subsequently  gathered  up  t!^e  remains,  and 
buried  them  about  eight  miles  from  Rome.  The  ruins  of  a 
church  are  stiU  to  be  seen,  which  in  after-years  was  erected 
upon  that  spot,  called  the  Church  of  the  Seven  Brothers. 

Such  is  the  narrative  which  has  come  down  to  us  from  those 
distant  ages.  We  have  no  reason  to  doubt  its  essential  ac- 
curacy. Such  scenes  were  continually  occurring;  and  the 
evidence  is  incontrovertible,  that,  in  those  days  of  terrible  per- 
secution, God  did  sustain  the  disciples  of  Jesus  with  super- 
natural support.  Tender  children  and  timid  maidens  encoun- 
tered death  in  its  most  frightful  forms  with  firmness  which 
excited  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  the  sturdiest  pagans. 

The  Eastern  sage,  as  he  accompanied  a  monarch  through 
the  gorgeous  saloons  of  his  palace,  said  that  it  had  one  great 
defect,  —  it  had  no  chamber  which  was  death-proof.  Adrian 
found  this  true  in  the  magnificent  pile  which  he  had  reared 
upon  the  banks  of  the  Tiber.  He  was  taken  ill.  The  disease 
developed  itself  in  a  tormenting  dropsy.  He  had  no  rest  by 
day,  no  rest  by  night.  The  weary  hours  were  filled  with  suf- 
fering. Remorse  was  undoubtedly  gnawing  at  bis  heart.  He 
had  known  the  better  way,  but  had  refused  to  walk  in  it. 
Paganism  offered  him  no  consolations.  Christianity  he  had 
rejected.  In  his  anguish  he  longed  to  die,  —  to  take  that  leap 
in  the  dark  which  must  be  so  terrible  to  any  thoughtful  man 
who  has  not  accepted  the  truth,  that  life  and  immortality  are 
brought  to  light  in  the  gospel.  His  sufferings  were  so  great, 
that  he  begged  his  friends  to  kill  him,  —  to  present  him  the 
poisoned  cup,  or  to  plunge  the  dagger  to  his  heart.  But  no 
one  was  willing  to  perform  that  service.  He  was  often  heard 
to  exclaim,  '  How  miserable  a  thing  it  is  to  seek  death,  and  not 
to  find  it !  How  strange  it  is  that  I,  who  have  put  so  many 
others  to  death,  cannot  die  myself!" 


MARTYRDOM.  256 

Upon  this  couch  of  sufferings  from  which  death  removed  him 
in  the  sixty-second  year  of  his  age,  he  wrote  the  following 
lines  to  his  departing  spirit,  so  affecting,  so  melancholy,  that 
they  have  survived  the  lapse  of  eighteen  centuries :  — 

"  Animula,  vagula,  blandula, 
Hospes  comesque  corporia 
Quae  nunc  abibis  in  loca, 
Pallidula,  rigida,  nudula? 
Nee,  ut  soles,  dabis  jocos." 

Prior  has  endeavored  to  translate  or  imitate  this  stanza  in 
the  following  lines,  which  but  feebly  express  the  spirit  of  tb« 
original :  — 

"  Poor  little,  pretty,  fluttering  thing  I 

Must  we  no  longer  live  together  ? 
And  dost  thou  plume  thy  trembling  wing 

To  take  thy  flight  thou  know'st  not  whither  ? 
Thy  humorous  vein,  thy  pleasing  folly. 

Lie  all  neglected,  all  forgot ; 
And  pensive,  wavering,  melancholy, 

Thou  dread'st  and  hop'st  thou  know'st  not  what." 

Adrian  appointed  Antoninus,  .a  man  of  singular  purity  and 
integrity  of  character,  who  was  about  fifty  years  of  age,  to  suc- 
ceed him  on  the  throne.  He  enjoined  it  upon  him  to  adopt  as 
his  heir  Marcus  Aurelius,  a  very  beautiful  hoy  of  seventeen, 
whose  fascination  of  character  and  manners  had  won  the  love 
of  the  Emperor  Adrian. 

Antoninus  was  a  humane  man.  Christianity  had  obtained 
prominence,  and  had  become  an  important  element  in  the 
Roman  world.  But  still  the  Christians  were  hated  by  the 
idolaters,  and  suffered  innumerable  wrongs  and  outrages  from 
the  hands  of  the  populace,  even  when  there  was  no  govern- 
mental persecution.  Their  sufferings  enlisted  the  sympathy 
of  Antoninus.  The  mere  fact  that  one  was  a  Christian,  no 
matter  how  pure  his  character,  how  exemplary  his  life,  exposed 
him  to  "very  conceivable  indignity  from  the  idol-worshipping 


256  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

populace.  The  local  magistrates,  yielding  to  the  clamors  of 
the  mob,  would  afford  no  protection  to  those  who  were  accused 
of  being  the  disciples  of  Jesus.  Antoninus  issued  the  fol- 
lowing decree : — 

"  If  any  one  shall  for  the  future  molest  the  Christians,  and 
accuse  them  merely  on  account  of  their  religion,  let  the  person 
who  is  arraigned  be  discharged,  and  the  accuser  be  punished 
according  to  the  rigor  of  the  law." 

During  the  reign  of  Antoninus,  there  arose  a  very  distin- 
guished man,  now  known  as  Justin  Martyr,  the  productions 
of  whose  pen  are  still  read  with  admiration,  and  whose  name 
will  never  die.  He  was  bom  in  Samaria,  of  Greek  parentage. 
In  youth  he  enriched  his  mind  by  intense  study  and  extensive 
travel.  All  truly  great  men  are  thoughtful  and  pensive.  The 
mystery  of  life  oppresses  them,  and  the  thought  of  what  there 
is  beyond  this  life  absorbs  the  soul. 

Justin  has  given  an  exceedingly  interesting  account  of  his 
endeavors  to  find  some  system  of  philosophy  or  some  doctrines 
of  religion  which  could  guide  and  solace  him.  We  give  the 
narrative  in  his  own  words :  — 

"  At  first  I  placed  myself  under  the  instruction  of  a  Stoic. 
After  some  time,  I  perceived  that  he  could  teach  me  nothing 
respecting  God :  indeed,  he  confessed  that  he  knew  nothing 
of  God  himself,  and  that  he  did  not  consider  a  knowledge  of 
him  to  be  at  all  necessary.  I  immediately  left  the  Stoic,  and 
addressed  myself  to  a  Peripatetic,  a  disciple  of  Aristotle.  He 
was,  at  least  in  his  own  opinion,  an  extremely  subtle  man. 
After  spending  some  days  with  him,  I  found  that  he  was  more 
interested  in  the  money  I  should  pay  him  than  in  any  thing 
else.  Being  satisfied  that  such  was  not  the  philosophy  I 
needed,  I  bade  him  adieu. 

"  Hearing  of  a  Pythagorean  of  very  great  reputation,  I  ap- 
plied to  him.  He  also  had  a  very  exalted  opinion  of  his  own 
wisdom.  Wh^n  I  informed  him  that  I  wished  to  become  one 
of  his  disciples,  *  Very  well,'  said  he  to  me  :  '  have  you  studied 
music,  astronomy,  and  geometry  ?  or  do  you  think  it  possible 
that  you  can  understand  any  thing  of  that  which  kads  to 


MARTYRDOM.  257 

!»li88  without  having  mastered  those  sciences  which  disengage 
She  soul  from  sensible  objects,  rendering  it  a  fit  habitation  for 
the  intelligences,  and  placing  it  in  a  condition  to  contemplate 
goodness  and  beauty  ? ' 

"As  I  confessed  that  I  had  not  studied  those  sciences,  he 
dismissed  me ;  for  he  deemed  them  necessary. 

**  One  can  judge  how  great  were  my  sufferings  in  seeing  my 
hopes  thus  frustrated.  My  grief  was  the  more  keen,  since  I 
really  did  suppose  he  knew  something ;  but,  as  it  would  re- 
quire a  long  time  for  me  to  perfect  myself  in  those  branches, 
I  could  not  submit  to  the  delay.  I  then  determined  to  seek 
the  instruction  of  the  Platonists.  There  was  a  philosopher  of 
that  sect  in  our  city,  highly  distinguished.  I  had  many  con- 
versations with  him,  and  profited  much  by  them.  It  afforded 
me  great  pleasure  to  become  acquainted  with  incorporeal 
things.  The  consideration  of  ideas  elevated  my  spirit  as  upon 
the  wings  of  an  eagle.  Thus  I  thought  that  in  a  very  short 
time  1  should  become  wise.  I  even  conceived  the  foolish 
hope  that  1  should  soon  see  God.  This  frame  of  mind  led  me 
to  seek  solitude." 

Justin  then  goes  on  to  narrate,  that  one  day  he  was  walk- 
ing by  the  shore  of  the  sea,  absorbed  in  thought,  when  he 
saw  a  venerable  man  approaching  him.  The  dignified  bearing 
of  the  stranger,  and  the  remarkable  serenity  and  sweetness  of 
his  countenance,  arrested  his  attention.  They  entered  into 
conversation.  The  stranger  proved  to  be  a  Christian,  a  man 
of  remarkable  intelligence,  who  understood  the  vain  systems 
of  the  philosophers  as  well  as  the  gross  absurdities  of  the 
popular  idolatry.  He  unfolded  to  Justin  the  religion  of  Jesus. 
The  young  man  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  revelation  thus 
made  to  him.  As  he  contemplated  the  idea  of  one  God,  the 
Creator  of  all  things  ;  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  coming 
to  the  world  to  make  atonement  for  sin ;  of  immortality ;  of 
the  elevation  of  the  soul  to  eternal  happiness  in  heaven 
through  penitence,  the  abandonment  of  sin,  and  the  prayer- 
ful and  persevering  endeavor  in  thought  and  word  and  deed 
to  live  a  holy  life,  —  the  earnest  spirit  of  Justin  bowed  to  the 


258  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

majesty  of  truth.  He  became  a  devoted  Christian.  The  sim- 
ple preaching  of  the  cross  of  Christ,  which  many  of  the  Greek 
philosophers  regarded  as  foolishness,  became  to  Justin,  as  it 
has  to  many  others,  "  the  wisdom  of  God  and  the  power  of 
God  unto  salvation." 

Justin,  by  his  self-denying  devotion,  soon  became  conspicu- 
ous in  all  the  churches.  He  wrote  an  apology  in  behalf  of  the 
Christians.  This  treatise,  which  would  do  honor  to  any  pen 
in  the  nineteenth  century,  was  addressed  "  To  the  Emperor 
Antoninus,  his  two  sons,  the  Eoman  senate,  and  all  the  Ro- 
man people."  Very  lucidly  he  stated  the  essential  doctrines 
©f  Christianity,  and  the  nature  of  the  evidence  upon  which  the 
religion  was  founded.  With  resistless  force  of  argument  he 
refuted  the  calumnies  with  which  the  Christians  were  assailed, 
showing  that  their  hopes  of  eternal  happiness  were  all  forfeited 
if  they  allowed  themselves  in  any  known  sin.  He  dwelt  upon 
the  injustice  of  condemning  Christians  for  their  name  alone. 
He  made  it  perfectly  clear  to  the  humblest  intelligence,  that, 
when  the  Christians  spoke  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  they  had 
reference,  not  to  an  earthly,  but  to  a  spiritual  kingdom.  He 
stated  the  nature  and  design  of  the  sacraments,  —  of  baptism 
and  the  Lord's  supper. 

Justin  closed  his  apology  with  the  following  forcible 
words :  — 

"  If  you  find  Christianity  to  be  reasonable,  respect  it :  but 
do  not  condemn  to  death,  simply  because  they  are  Christians, 
those  who  have  committed  no  crime ;  for  we  declare  to  you, 
that  you  cannot  escape  the  judgment  of  God  if  you  persist  in 
such  wickedness.  As  for  us,  we  only  say,  *  The  will  of  God  be 
done.'  We  might  demand  justice  of  you  in  virtue  of  the  decree 
of  your  illustrious  father  Adrian ;  but  we  have  preferred  to  rest 
our  cause  upon  the  justice  of  our  demands." 

This  admirable  treatise,  calmly  written  with  great  force  of 
language  and  cogency  of  argument,  must  have  exerted  a  very 
powerful  influence.  Still  popular  prejudice  is  seldom  removed 
by  argument.  Though  here  and  there  many  leading  minds 
were  led  to  regard  Christianity  with  more  favor,  stiU  the  malice 


MARTYRDOM.  259 

of  the  ignorant  and  brutal  masses,  who  were  ever  orying,  "  To 
the  lions  with  the  Christians  1 "  remained  unchanged, 

Justin  was  at  Rome  when  he  wrote  this  apology.  Soon 
after,  he  left  Rome,  and  retired  to  Ephesus. 

Upon  the  death  of  Antoninus,  whose  reig^  of  twenty-two 
years  was  an  uneventful  onf>,  Marcus  Aurelius  ascended  the 
throne.  For  some  unexplained  reason,  the  new  emperor  com- 
menced his  reign  with  very  unfriendly  feelings  towards  the 
Christians.  Though  he  issued  no  decree  of  persecution,  yet 
he  afforded  the  disciples  no  protection  :  they  were  left  to  be 
maltreated  by  the  brutal  populace,  and  often  to  be  condemned 
to  torture  and  death  by  the  angry  and  unprincipled  governors 
of  distant  provinces.  In  the  seventh  year  of  the  reign  of 
Marcus  Aurelius,  a  very  terrible  persecution  of  the  Christians 
sprang  up  in  Smyrna  and  its  environs.  The  emperor  re- 
mained silent  in  his  palace  while  the  Christians  were  scourged 
to  death,  burnt  at  the  stake,  or  thrown  to  wild  beasts.  It  is 
said  that  these  martyrs  were  so  wonderfully  sustained  by 
supernatural  power,  that,  in  their  hours  of  most  dreadful 
anguish,  not  a  groan  escaped  their  lips. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  venerable  Polycarp  was 
bishop  of  the  church  in  Smyrna.  Through  the  urgency  of  his 
friends  he  was  induced  to  leave  the  city,  to  seek  a  retreat  in 
the  country.  The  mob  clamored  for  his  blood  :  they  pursued 
him.  Two  boys  were  found,  who,  as  they  supposed,  knew  of 
the  place  of  his  concealment.  These  merciless  men  placed  the 
boys  upon  the  rack.  In  their  unendurable  agony,  they  told 
where  Polycarp  was  to  be  found.  A  band  of  soldiers,  thor- 
oughly armed,  hastened  to  seize  him.  It  was  late  on  Friday 
niglit,  and  the  bishop  was  calmly  sleeping  in  his  chamber. 
Aroused  by  the  noise  of  their  entrance,  he  descended  to  meet 
them,  greeted  them  kindly,  and  ordered  refreshments  to  be  set 
before  them.  He  then  asked  of  them  the  favor  to  grant  him 
one  hour  for  prayer.  The  soldiers,  impressed  by  his  venerable 
appearance  and  kindly  spirit,  could  not  refuse  his  request.  At 
the  close  of  this  season  of  devotion  they  placed  him  upop  an 
ass,  and  conducted  him  to  the  city. 


260  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

The  sun  of  Saturday  morning  had  risen  as  they  entered 
the  streets  of  Smyrna.  Many  of  the  pagans  who  had  long 
known  Polycarp,  and  who  appreciated  the  nobleness  of  his 
character,  entreated  him  simply  to  say,  "  Lord  Caesar,"  to  offer 
sacrifice  to  the  idols,  and  thus  to  be  saved.  He  meekly  replied, 
"  I  cannot  follow  your  advice."  They  were  so  exasperated  by 
what  they  considered  his  irrational  stubbornness,  that  they 
not  only  overwhelmed  him  with  reproaches,  but  treated  him 
with  personal  abuse. 

He  was  brought  before  the  tribunal  of  the  pro-consul  Philip, 
who  seemed  to  wish  to  save  the  venerable  old  man.  He  said 
to  Polycarp,  "  If  you  wUl  only  swear  by  Caesar,  and  reproach 
Christ,  I  will  immediately  release  you." 

Polycarp  replied,  "  Eighty  and  six  years  have  I  served 
Christ,  and  he  hath  never  wronged  me.  How  can  I  now  blas- 
pheme my  King,  who  hath  saved  me  ?  I  am  a  Christian.  If 
you  desire  to  learn  the  Christian  doctrine,  assign  me  a  day, 
and  I  will  declare  it  to  you." 

The  pro-consul  said,  '*  I  have  the  beasts,  and  will  expose  you 
to  them  if  you  do  not  yield." 

Polycarp  replied,  "  Let  them  come.  I  cannot  change  from 
good  to  bad  ;  but  it  is  weU  to  pass  from  these  sufferings  to  the 
realms  of  justice." 

"  If  you  have  no  fear  of  the  beasts,"  the  pro-consul  replied, 
"  I  will  bind  you  to  the  stake,  and  consume  you  with  fire, 
unless  you  yield." 

"  You  threaten  me,"  said  Polycarp,  "  with  fire,  which  burns 
but  for  a  time,  and  is  soon  extinguished ;  but  you  are  ignorant 
of  the  future  judgment,  and  of  the  fire  eternal  which  is 
reserved  for  the  impious." 

The  pro-consul  was  astonished  at  his  firmness.  Still  he 
sent  his  herald  into  the  amphitheatre  to  proclaim  to  the  eager 
throng  awaiting  the  cruel  spectacle  of  the  martyrdom  that 
Polycarp  had  confessed  himself  a  Christian.  With  loud  and 
angry  shouts,  the  populace  declared  that  he  was  the  father  of 
the  Christians ;  that  it  was  he  who  had  induced  so  many  to 
abandon  the  temples  of  the  gods.  With  one  voice  they  de- 
manded that  he  should  be  thrown  to  the  lions. 


MARTYRDOM.  261 

Philip  refused,  saying  that  the  spectacles  of  the  wild  beasts 
?vere  finished.  They  then  raised  the  deafening  cry,  that  he 
should  be  burned  at  the  stake.  Immediately  they  ran  to  the 
workshops  around  to  gather  fuel.  It  was  observed  that  the 
Jews  were  as  eager  as  the  pagans  at  this  work.  While  they 
were  rearing  the  funeral-pile,  Polycarp  turned  to  the  few 
friends  who  had  ventured  to  gather  around  him,  and  said  to 
them  with  a  smile  (for  he  rather  courted  than  dreaded  martyr- 
dom), "  I  am  to  be  burned  alive." 

The  executioners  deprived  him  of  all  his  clothing,  dragged 
him  to  the  stake,  and,  while  the  populace  were  piling  the  fag- 
ots around  him,  prepared  to  fasten  him  to  it ;  but  he  said  to 
them  calmly,  — 

"Leave  me  as  I  am.  He  who  gives  me  fortitude  to  endure 
the  fire  will  enable  me  to  remain  in  the  midst  of  the  flames 
without  being  bound." 

These  savage  men,  perhaps  interested  in  witnessing  the  re- 
sult of  such  an  experiment,  consented. 

Polycarp  then,  raising  his  eyes  to  heaven,  breathed  aloud 
the  following  prayer :  — 

"  Lord  God  all-powerful.  Father  of  Jesus  Christ,  thy  blessed 
and  well-beloved  Son,  through  whom  we  have  received  grace 
to  know  thee,  I  thank  thee  that  thou  hast  led  me  to  this  day 
and  to  this  hour,  in  which  I  am  to  take  part  in  the  number  of 
thy  martyrs.  May  I  this  day  be  admitted  into  thy  presence 
with  them  as  an  acceptable  sacrifice,  in  accordance  with  that 
thou  hast  prepared,  predicted,  and  fulfilled ! 

"  Therefore  I  praise  thee  for  all  these  things.  I  bless  thee, 
I  glorify  thee,  through  the  eternal  and  celestial  High  Priest, 
Jesus  Christ,  thy  dear  Soa  ;  to  whom  be  rendered  glory,  with 
thee  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  now  and  through  all  future  ages. 
Amen." 

The  church  in  Smyrna  wrote  an  account  of  the  martyrdom 
of  Polycarp,  which  is  still  extant,  and  which  they  sent  to  their 
brethren  throughout  the  world.  The  day  of  miracles  had  not 
yet  passed.  The  church  testifies  to  the  following  miraculous 
event  which  was  witnessed  at  his  death  :  — 


262  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 

"  When  Polycarp  had  finished  his  prayer,  and  pronounced 
'  Amen '  aloud,  the  officers  lighted  the  fire :  and,  a  great  flame 
bursting  out,  we,  to  whom  it  was  given  to  see,  saw  a  wonder ; 
who  also  were  reserved  to  relate  to  others  that  which  had  hap- 
pened. For  the  flame,  forming  the  appearance  of  an  arch  aa 
the  sail  of  a  vessel  filled  with  wind,  was  a  wall  round  about 
the  body  of  the  martyr ;  and  it  was  in  the  midst,  not  as 
burning  flesh,  but  as  gold  and  silver  refined  in  a  furnace. 
We  received  also  in  our  nostrils  such  a  fragrance,  as  of  frank- 
incense or  some  other  precious  perfume  !  At  length,  the  impi- 
ous judges,  observing  that  his  body  cotJd  not  be  consumed  by 
fire,  ordered  the  executioner  to  approach,  and  plunge  his  sword 
into  his  body.  Upon  this  a  quantity  of  blood  gushed  out,  so 
that  the  fire  was  extinguished,  and  all  the  multitude  were 
astonished." 

The  dead  body  was  then  placed  upon  the  funeral-pUe,  and 
burned.  The  friends  of  the  martyr  were  then  permitted  to 
collect  the  charred  bones,  and  give  them  Christian  burial. 

The  Roman  empire  was  beginning  to  be  assailed  with  such 
ferocity  by  the  surrounding  barbarians,  that  Marcus  Anreliua 
found  it  necessary  to  enlist  Christians  in  the  army.  He  formed 
a  brigade  of  six  thousand  of  these  persecuted  disciples  of 
Jesus,  and  incorporated  them  with  one  of  the  Roman  legions. 
God  endowed  these  soldiers  with  such  bravery,  and  enabled 
them  to  win  such  victories,  as  called  forth  the  admiration  both 
of  the  emperor  and  the  army. 

After  a  decisive  battle,  in  which  God  seemed  miraculously 
to  have  interposed  in  behalf  of  the  Christian  legion,  Aurelius 
issued  a  decree,  declaring  that  the  Christians  should  no  longer 
be  persecuted,  but  should  be  entitled  to  all  the  rights  and  privi- 
leges belonging  to  other  subjects  of  Rome. 


CHAPTEK    XIL 


PAGAN    ROME. 


iBfamy  of  Oommodus.  —  His  Death.  —  The  Reign  of  Pertlnax.  —  The  Mob  of  tM 
dlers.  — Death  of  Pertlnax.— Julian  purchases  the  Crown.—  Rival  ClaliB' 
ants.  —  Severus.  —  Persecutions.  —  Martyrdom  of  Perpetua  and  Felicitas.  — ^  The 
Reign  of  Caracalla.  — Fiendlilie  Atrocities.- Elagabalus,  Priest  of  the  Sun. 
Death  by  the  Mob.  —  Alexander  and  his  Christian  Mother.  —  Contrast  betweea 
Paganism  and  Christianity.  —  The  Sin  of  Unbelief. 


FTER  a  stormy  reign  of  twenty-three  years,  the 
Emperor  Aurelius  died,  and  his  son  Commodus, 
nineteen  years  of  age,  succeeded  to  the  throne. 
He  was  a  demon.  His  atrocities  I  must  not 
describe :  nothing  can  be  imagined,  in  the  way  of 
loathsome,  brutal,  fiendiike  vice,  of  which  he  was 
not  guilty.  A  ^oul  pagan,  he  filled  the  palaces 
of  Rome  with  all  the  atrocities  of  iniquity. 

He  murdered  one  of  his  own  sisters,  and  worse  than  mur- 
dered the  rest.  He  amused  himself  in  cutting  off  the  lips 
and  noses  of  those  who  incurred  his  displeasure.  The  rich  he 
Blew,  to  get  their  money ;  the  virtuous,  because  their  example 
reproved  his  vices  ;  the  influential,  fearing  lest  they  should 
attain  too  much  power. 

Under  Commodus,  the  Christians  were  not  exposed  to  gov- 
ernmental persecution,  though  there  were  occasional  acts  of 
the  grossest  outrage.  One  of  his  female  favorites,  who  had 
great  influence  over  him,  became  their  protector.  Conversions 
were  rapidly  multiplied.  Many  of  the  most  noble  and  opulent 
In  Rome  embraced  the  Christian  faith,  which  they  could  see 


264  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

presented  the  only  hope  for  this  lost  world.  One  of  these  yery 
distinguished  men,  Apollonius,  an  accomplished  scholar,  pre- 
sented to  the  Roman  senate  a  very  eloquent  appeal  in  favor  of 
Christianity.  The  senate  demanded  that  he  should  retract  hia 
opinions.  As  he  refused,  he  was  sent  to  the  block,  and  be- 
headed. 

The  outrages  Commodus  was  perpetrating,  and  the  execu- 
tions he  was  daily  ordering,  at  length  became  intolerable.  His 
Qominal  wife,  the  same  Marcia  who  had  protected  the  Christians, 
£nding,  from  a  memorandum  which  she  picked  from  his  pocket, 
that  he  had  doomed  her  with  several  others  to  die,  gave  him 
a  cup  of  poison.  As  he  was  reeling  under  the  influence  of 
the  draught,  an  accomplice  plunged  a  dagger  into  his  heart, 
and  "  he  went  to  his  own  place."  "  To  his  own  place ! "  Where 
was  that  place  ?  No  one  can  be  familiar  with  the  history  of 
the  awful  crimes  which  have  been  perpetrated  upon  this  globe, 
and  not  feel  that  there  is  necessity  for  justice  and  retribution 
beyond  the  grave. 

The  joy  in  Rome  was  indescribable  when  the  rumor  spread 
through  the  thronged  streets,  on  the  morning  of  the  1st  of 
January,  193,  that  the  tyrant  was  dead.  The  senate  and  army 
placed  Pertinax,  mayor  of  Rome,  upon  the  vacant  throne.  He 
was,  for  a  pagan,  a  good  man.  He  found  the  nation  with  an 
empty  treasury,  and  enormously  in  debt,  and  attempted  to 
economize ;  but  the  army  demanded  the  wealth  and  luxury 
which  could  be  obtained  only  by  rapine. 

Commodus  had  accumulated  a  vast  amount  of  gold  and  sil- 
ver plate  ;  chariots  of  most  costly  construction ;  robes  of  impe- 
rial purple,  heavily  embroidered  with  gems  and  gold ;  and  last, 
but  not  least,  he  had  seized,  and  crowded  into  his  harem,  six 
hundred  of  the  most  beautiful  boys  and  girls.  The  plate,  the 
chariots,  the  robes,  and  the  handsome  boys  and  beautiful  girls, 
were  all  sold  to  the  highest  bidder.  It  is  Christianity  alone 
which  recognizes  the  brotherhood  of  man.  Pertinax,  a  pagan, 
could  perhaps  see  no  wrong  in  selling  these  young  men  and 
maidens  into  slavery.  All  the  money  thus  infamously  obtained 
was  honestly  paid  into  the  exhausted  treasury. 


PAGAN    B031E.  265 

The  army  had  loved  Commodus.  He  allowed  the  soldiers 
unlimited  license ;  he  filled  their  pursea  with  gold ;  he 
crowded  their  camp  with  male  and  female  slaves.  Pertinax 
wished  to  introduce  reforms.  The  army  hated  Pertinax  he- 
cause  he  was  good,  as  devils  hate  angels.  "  Away  with  him ! " 
was  the  cry  which  resounded  through  the  whole  encampment. 

Three  hundred  burly  wretches,  from  the  encampment  out- 
side the  walls  of  Rome,  marched  to  the  palace.  Deliberately 
they  cut  off  the  head  of  Pertinax.  Parading  it  upon  a  lance, 
they,  with  shouts  of  triumph,  marched  back  through  the  streets 
of  Rome  to  their  barracks.  The  citizens  looked  on  in  dismay : 
they  dared  not  utter  a  word.  The  larmy  was  their  master. 
A  standing  army  and  an  unarmed  people  place  any  nation  at 
the  mercy  of  an  ambitious  general. 

Sixteen  thousand  soldiers,  thoroughly  trained,  and  heavily 
armed  in  steel  coats  of  mail,  were  always  quartered  just  out- 
side the  gates  of  Rome.  Prom  their  commanding  encamp- 
ment on  the  broad  summits  of  the  Quirinal  and  Viminal  Hills 
they  held  the  millions  of  the  Roman  capital  in  subjection. 
The  gory  head  of  Pertinax  was  elevated  upon  a  pike.  The 
brutal  soldiery  gathered  around  it  with  yeUs  and  hootings,  and 
offered  the  crown  to  the  highest  bidder. 

Julian,  a  vile  demagogue,  the  richest  man  in  Rome,  offered 
a  thousand  dollars  to  each  soldier,  making  sixteen  millions  of 
dollars.  He  could  easily  win  back  treble  the  sum  by  extortion 
and  the  plunder  of  war.  The  soldiers  accepted  the  offer.  Sur- 
rounding Julian,  they  marched  in  dense  column  into  the  city 
to  the  capitol,  and  compelled  the  senate  to  recognize  him  aa 
emperor.  There  were  sixteen  thousand  swords  aa  so  many 
indisputable  arguments  to  enforce  their  demands.  The  senate, 
with  the  sword  at  its  throat,  obsequiously  obeyed.  The  trem- 
bling populace  was  equally  submissive.  With  apparently 
universal  acclaim,  Julian  was  proclaimed  emperor. 

But  there  were  other  imperial  armies  betjides  the  sixteen 
thousand  which  held  Rome  in  awe.  There  was  one  in  Greece 
of  twenty  thousand,  one  of  twenty  thousand  in  Britain,  and 
one  of  thirty  thousand  in  Syria.     Each  of  these  armies  fol- 


260  BISTORT  OF  CHRIBTIANITI. 

lowed  the  example  of  the  Pretorian  Guard,  as  the  anny  m 

Rome  was  called.  Each  chose  an  emperor  from  among  its 
generals.  There  were  thus  four  rival  emperors,  each  at  the 
head  of  a  powerful  army.  The  arbitrament  of  bloody  battle 
alone  could  decide  who  should  hold  the  prize. 

The  three  distant  armies  commenced  an  impetuous  march 
upon  Julian  at  Rome.  Severus  from  Greece  was  nearest. 
With  giant  strides  he  pressed  forward,  sweeping  all  opposition 
before  him.  As  he  drew  near  the  camp  of  the  Pretorian  Guard, 
the  soldiers,  who  had  already  received  their  thousand  dollars 
each  from  Julian,  coolly  cut  off  Julian's  head,  and  sent  it  to 
Severus.  The  two  armies  then  fraternized  under  Severus,  and 
took  possession  of  Rome. 

Albinus  was  advancing  with  his  twenty  thousand  men 
from  Britain.  Enormous  bribes  were  sent  to  him  by  Severus ; 
and  he  gave  in  his  adhesion  to  the  successful  general  who 
was  so  formidably  intrenched  at  Rome.  Niger  then,  march- 
ing from  Syria,  was  easily  routed  by  the  three  combined  ar- 
mies opposed  to  him.  He  was  taken  captive,  and  beheaded. 
Severus  thus  became  emperor  without  a  rival.  In  commemo- 
ration of  his  victory,  he  reared  in  Rome  a  colossal  triumphal 
arch,  which  remains  to  the  present  day. 

Severus  was  a  thoroughly  bad  man ;  and  yet  he  protected 
the  Christians.  A  physician  who  had  embraced  the  new 
religion  had  saved  the  life  of  his  child.  Severus  gratefully 
took  him  into  the  palace,  and  treated  him  with  the  utmost 
kindness.  Though  unwilling  to  regulate  his  own  conduct 
by  the  religion  of  Jesus,  he  so  far  appreciated  the  excellence 
of  Christianity  as  to  appoint  one  of  its  advocates  as  teacher 
of  his  child.  When  the  fury  of  the  populace  at  Rome  rose 
against  the  Christians,  Severus  interposed  to  shield  them. 

But  in  remote  parts  of  the  empire,  where  the  power  of  the 
crown  was  but  feebly  felt,  persecution  raged  terribly.  The 
father  of  the  renowned  Eusebius  was  beheaded :  his  property 
was  confiscated,  and  his  widow  and  children  left  utterly  desti- 
tute. Eusebius,  who  was  then  but  seventeen  years  of  age, 
and  a  very  earnest  Christian,  was  so  anxious  to  follow  hii 


PAGAN  ROME.  267 

father  to  martyrdom,  that  his  mother  could  with  great  diffi- 
culty restrain  him.  He  lived  to  establish  a  reputation  which 
has  fiUed  the  world  with  his  name. 

In  Africa,  also,  the  persecution  was  violent.  In  Carthage, 
twelve  Christians  at  one  time  were  brought  before  the  pro- 
consul, three  of  whom  were  females.  They  refused  to  abjure 
their  faith,  and  were  condemned  to  be  beheaded.  We  have  a 
minute  account  of  the  trial, — the  questions  and  their  answers. 
Upon  being  condemned  to  death  simply  for  being  Chris- 
tians, they  knelt  together,  and  thanked  God  that  they  were 
honored  with  the  crown  of  martyrdom.  Joyfully  each  one  re- 
ceived the  death-blow.  It  was  at  this  time,  and  at  Carthage, 
that  Tertullian  wrote  his  world-renowned  apology  for  Chris- 
tianity. It  was  so  eloquent  in  its  rhetoric,  and  so  convincing 
in  its  logic,  that  it  exerted  a  very  powerful  influence  over  all 
thoughtful  minds. 

The  martyrdom  of  Perpetua  and  Felicitas  at  Carthage  was 
one  of  the  memorable  events  of  this  persecution.  Perpetua 
was  a  Roman  lady  of  exalted  birth,  and  highly  educated,  who 
had  become  a  Christian.  Felicitas  was  a  young  Christian 
bride,  about  to  become  a  mother.  The  parents  of  Perpetua 
were  pagans,  and  also  her  two  brothers.  She  was  but  twenty- 
two  years  of  age,  recently  married,  and  had  an  infant  child. 

She  was  arrested,  and  thrown  into  prison.  Her  aged  father, 
who  loved  Perpetua  tenderly,  prostrated  himself  upon  his  knees 
before  his  daughter,  and,  with  tears  gushing  from  his  eyes, 
entreated  her  to  save  her  life  by  sacrificing  to  the  gods. 
She  remained  firm.  The  high  social  position  of  the  captive 
caused  a  large  crowd  to  be  assembled  at  the  trial.  Her  father 
came,  bringing  to  the  court  her  babe,  and  entreating  Perpetua, 
for  the  sake  of  her  child,  to  save  her  life.  He  hoped  that  the 
sight  of  her  child  would  cause  her  to  relent,  and  renounce 
Jesus.     The  public  prosecutor,  Hilarien,  then  said  to  her,  — 

"  In  mercy  to  your  aged  father,  in  mercy  to  your  babe, 
throw  not  away  your  life,  but  sacrifice  to  the  gods." 

"  I  am  a  Christian,"  she  replied,  "  and  cannot  deny  Christ." 
The  anguish  of  her  father  was  so  great,  that  he  was  unable  to 


268  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY 

restrain  loud  expressions  of  grief;  and  the  brutal  soldiers 
drove  him  off  with  cruel  blows.  "I  felt  the  blows,"  says 
Perpetua  in  a  brief  memorial  which  she  left  of  her  trials, 
"  as  if  they  had  fallen  on  myself."  Perpetua  was  then  con- 
demned to  be  torn  to  pieces  by  wild  beasts. 

"When  the  day  for  the  spectacle  arrived,"  says  Perpetua, 
"  my  father  threw  himself  on  the  ground,  tore  his  beard, 
cursed  the  day  in  which  he  was  born,  and  uttered  piercing 
cries  which  were  sufficient  to  move  the  hardest  heart." 

Both  Perpetua  and  Felicitas  were  doomed  to  the  same 
death.  The  two  victims  were  led  into  the  arena  of  the  vast 
amphitheatre,  where,  with  the  utmost  ingenuity  of  cruelty, 
they  were  to  be  gored  to  death  by  bulls.  The  rising  seats 
which  surrounded  the  amphitheatre  were  crowded  with  spec- 
tators to  enjoy  the  spectacle. 

Let  us,  in  imagination,  descend  into  the  dark,  damp  dun- 
geons opening  into  the  arena.  Here  in  this  den  are  growl- 
ing lions,  gaunt  and  fierce ;  and  here  is  a  den  of  panthers 
with  glaring  eyeballs.  They  have  been  kept  starved  for 
many  days  to  make  them  furious.  Here  in  this  cell  of  stone 
and  iron,  which  the  glare  of  the  torch  but  feebly  illumines,  is 
a  band  of  Christians,  —  fathers,  mothers,  sons,  and  daughters. 
They  are  to  be  thrown  to-morrow  into  the  arena  naked,  that 
they  may  be  torn  to  pieces  by  the  panthers  and  the  lions,  and 
that  the  hundred  thousand  pagan  spectators  may  enjoy  the 
sport  of  seeing  them  torn  limb  from  limb,  and  devoured  by 
the  fierce  and  starved  beasts. 

In  one  of  these  cells  Perpetua  and  Felicitas  were  confined. 
In  another  were  several  wild  bulls.  It  was  a  glorious  sum- 
mer's day,  and  the  cloudless  sun  shone  down  upon  the  amphi- 
theatre, over  which  a  silken  awning  was  spread,  and  which  was 
crowded  with  many  thousands  of  spectators.  Here  were  con- 
gregated all  the  wealth  and  beauty  and  fashion  of  the  city,  — 
vestal  virgins,  pontiffs,  ambassadors,  senators,  and,  in  the 
loftiest  tier,  a  countless  throng  of  slaves.  Carthaginian  ladies, 
affecting  the  utmost  delicacy  and  refinement,  vied  with  men  in 
the  eagerness  with  which  they  watched  the  bloody  scenes. 


PERPKTUA    WAS    FIRST    BKOUCiHT    INTO    THE    ART.NA.' 


PAGAN  ROME.  269 

In  the  centre  of  the  arena  there  was  suspended  a  large  net- 
work bag  of  strong  fine  twine,  with  interstices  so  large  as  to 
aflford  no  covering  or  veil  whatever  to  the  person.  Perpetua 
was  first  brought  into  the  arena,  young  and  beautiful,  a  pure 
and  modest  Christian  lady.  She  was  led  forth  entirely  divested 
of  her  clothing,  that  to  the  bitterness  of  martyrdom  might  be 
added  the  pangs  of  wounded  modesty.  A  hundred  thousand 
voices  assailed  her  with  insult  and  derision.  Brutal  soldiers 
placed  her  in  the  transparent  network.  There  she  hung  in 
mid-air,  but  two  feet  from  the  ground,  as  if  floating  in  space. 
Then  the  burly  executioners  gave  her  a  swing  with  their 
brawny  arms,  whirling  her  in  a  wide  circle  around  the  arena, 
and  retired. 

An  iron  door  creaks  upon  its  hinges,  and  flies  open.  Out 
from  the  dungeon  leaps  the  bull,  with  flaming  eyes,  tail  in 
air,  bellowing,  and  pawing  the  sand  in  rage.  He  glares 
around  for  an  instant  upon  the  shouting  thousands,  and  then 
catches  a  view  of  the  maiden  swinging  before  him.  With  a 
bound  he  plunges  upon  her,  and  buries  his  horns  in  her  side. 
The  blood  gushes  forth,  and  she  is  tossed  ten  feet  in  the  air ; 
while  the  shrieks  of  the  tortured  victim  are  lost  in  the  hun- 
dred thousand  shouts  of  joy. 

This  scene  cannot  be  described :  it  can  hardly  be  imagined. 
Lunge  after  lunge  the  bull  plunges  upon  his  victim,  piercing, 
tossing,  tearing,  mangling,  till  the  sand  of  the  arena  is 
drenched  with  the  blood  of  the  victim  ;  until  her  body  swings 
around,  a  lifeless,  mangled  mass,  having  lost  all  semblance  of 
humanity.  Felicitas  in  the  mean  time  is  compelled  to  gaze 
upon  the  scene,  that  she  may  taste  twice  the  bitterness  of 
death.  In  her  turn  she  is  placed  in  the  suspended  network, 
and  in  the  same  fiery  chariot  of  martyrdom  ascends  to  heaven. 

Several  other  Christians  perished  at  the  same  time,  being 
torn  by  wild  beasts,  and  devoured  by  half-famished  bears, 
leopards,  and  wild  boars.  Pages  might  be  filled  with  similan 
accounts ;  but  this  record  must  be  brief. 

The  Emperor  Severus  died  on  an  expedition  to  Britain,  in 
the  year  of  our  Lord  211,  leaving  the  crown  to  his  two  sons. 


270  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIAmTY. 

Caracal]  a  and  Geta.  They  were  both  thoroughly  depraved 
boys.  Caracalla,  the  elder,  invited  his  brother  Geta  to  meet 
him  in  the  presence  of  his  mother  to  confer  upon  the  division 
of  the  empire.  During  the  conference,  Caracalla  drew  near 
his  brother,  and,  taking  a  dagger  from  beneath  his  dress, 
buried  it  to  the  hilt  in  Geta's  heart.  The  murdered  boy 
sprang  into  his  mother's  arms,  and  died,  she  being  deluged 
with  the  blood  of  her  son.  This  was  early  in  the  third  cen- 
tury, when  pagan  Rome  was  at  the  summit  of  its  wealthy 
refinement,  luxury,  and  power.  The  murderer  of  Geta  thus 
became  sole  emperor  of  Rome. 

Christianity  was  beginning  to  create  a  public  conscience. 
It  was  throwing  the  light  of  future  judgment  and  final  retribu- 
tion upon  such  hideous  crimes.  Both  of  these  young  men, 
depraved  though  they  were,  had  received  some  religious  in- 
struction. The  stings  of  remorse  imbittered  every  remaining 
hour  of  Caracalla's  life.  The  image  of  his  brother  Geta, 
gasping,  shrieking,  dying,  bathed  in  blood,  in  the  arms  of  his 
terrified  mother,  pursued  the  murderer  to  his  grave:  but  it 
did  not  soften  his  heart ;  it  only  hardened  him  in  sin,  and 
inflamed  his  soul  with  almost  insane  jealousy  and  fear.  Every 
individual  who  was  supposed  to  be  in  the  interest  of  Geta 
was  put  to  death,  without  regard  to  age  or  sex.  In  the  course 
of  a  few  months,  twenty  thousand  perished  by  this  wholesale 
proscription. 

A  wag  in  one  of  the  schools  in  Alexandria  wrote  a  burlesque 
rerse  upon  Caracalla.  The  tyrant,  in  consequence,  ordered  the 
whole  city  to  be  destroyed.  Every  man,  woman,  and  child 
was  ordered  to  be  put  to  death.  A  few  only  of  the  young  and 
beautiful  were  reserved  as  slaves. 

The  only  way  in  this  world  to  be  happy  is  to  strive  to  pro- 
mote the  happiness  of  others.  He  who  makes  others  wretched 
is  always  wretched  himself.  Caracalla  lived  the  life  of  a 
demon,  filling  the  world  with  woe ;  but,  in  all  the  empire,  there 
was  scarcely  to  be  found  a  greater  wretch  than  he. 

One  of  his  generals,  Macrinus,  who  had  displeased  the  em- 
peror, learning  that  he  was  doomed  to  death,  engaged  a  cen- 


PAGAN  ROME.  271 

turion,  a  man  of  herculean  strength,  to  assassinate  him.  A 
dagger  through  the  back  pierced  the  heart  of  the  tyrant 
Thus  terminated  the  diabolical  sway  of  Caracalla,  with  which 
God  had  allowed  the  world  to  be  cursed  for  six  years. 

The  army  had  adored  Caracalla ;  for  he  had  given  free  rein 
to  the  license  of  the  soldiers,  and  had  enriched  them  by  plun- 
der. Macrinus,  the  assassin,  was  not  illustrious  either  by 
birth,  wealth,  or  military  exploits.  The  soldiers  reluctantly, 
and  with  many  murmurs,  submitted  to  the  decision  of  the 
senate  recognizing  him  as  emperor.  The  army  was  encamped 
in  winter  quarters  in  Syria.  Macrinus,  exulting  in  new-born 
dignity,  was  luxuriating  in  his  palace  at  Antioch.  Under 
these  circumstances,  a  Syrian  soldier,  by  the  name  of  Elagaba- 
lus,  a  reckless,  unprincipled  man,  formed  a  conspiracy  in  the 
camp  outside  the  walls  of  Antioch.  He  assumed  that  he  was 
a  son  of  one  of  the  concubines  of  Caracalla.  The  soldiers, 
eager  for  the  renewal  of  their  former  privileges  of  plunder  and 
outrage,  enthusiastically  rallied  around  the  banner  of  the  in- 
surgent general.  There  was  one  short  battle.  Macrinus  was 
slain,  and  the  troops  with  one  accord  welcomed  Elagabalus  as 
emperor.  The  senate,  not  daring  to  present  opposition  to  the 
army,  obsequiously  confirmed  its  vote. 

This  rude,  untamed  pagan  was  a  worshipper  of  the  sun.  He 
had  been  a  high  priest  in  one  of  the  idol  temples.  With  his 
army  enlarged  by  brutal  hordes  from  the  East,  he  marched 
upon  Rome  in  the  double  capacity  of  pagan  pontiff  and  em- 
peror. He  was  arrayed  in  sacerdotal  robes  of  damask  em- 
broidered with  gold.  A  gorgeous  tiara  was  upon  his  brow ; 
and  he  wore  bracelets  and  a  necklace  incrusted  with  priceless 
gems.  The  city  pavements  over  which  he  passed  were  sprinkled 
with  gold-dust.  Six  milk-white  horses,  sumptuously  capari- 
Boned,  drew  a  chariot  containing  a  black  stone,  the  symbol  of 
the  god  he  worshipped.  Elagabalus,  as  pontiff,  held  the  reins 
with  his  back  to  the  horses,  that  his  eyes  might  not  be  for  a 
moment  turned  from  the  object  of  his  idolatry. 

A  new  temple  was  reared  for  this  new  idol  on  the  Palatine 
Hill.     Its  worship  was  introduced  with  splendor  such  as  Kome 


272  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

had  never  yet  witnessed.  Syrian  girls  of  great  beauty  danced 
around  the  altar.  Elagabalus,  with  his  crowd  of  adorers  of 
the  new  divinity,  rioted  in  those  dissolute  rites,  which  even  the 
pen  of  a  Roman  historian  shrinks  from  recording. 

The  palaces  of  the  Caesars  had  been  as  corrupt  as  Europe 
knew  how  to  make  them ;  but  Elagabalus  transported  to 
them  all  the  additional  vices  of  Asia.  Modem  civilization  will 
not  allow  the  story  of  his  infamy  to  be  told :  the  enlighten- 
ment of  the  nineteenth  century  could  not  bear  the  recital. 
The  change  which  Christianity  has  introduced  into  the  world 
is  so  great,  that  there  is  not  a  court  in  Europe  now,  no  matter 
how  corrupt,  which  would  endure  for  a  day  a  Nero  or  an  Ela- 
gabalus. 

Even  pagan  Home  could  not  long  submit  to  so  uiimitigated 
a  wretch.  There  was  mutiny  in  the  camp.  Elagabalus  was 
cut  down  in  the  fray.  A  mob  of  soldiers,  with  infuriate  yells, 
dragged  the  corpse  by  the  heels  through  the  streets,  and  cast 
the  mangled,  gory  mass  into  the  Tiber.  The  senate  passed  a 
decree  consigning  his  name  to  eternal  infamy.  Posterity  haa 
ratified  that  decree. 

There  are  those,  it  is  said,  who  believe  that  there  is  no  pun- 
ishment after  death ;  that  all  the  dead  go  at  once  to  heaven. 
Strange  must  be  the  philosophy,  and  stranger  still  the  theology, 
which  can  contemplate  Elagabalus  welcomed  at  the  golden 
gates,  angels  crowding  to  meet  him,  while  God,  with  beaming 
countenance,  exclaims,  "  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant ! 
enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 

The  Pretorian  Guard  of  sixteen  thousand  mailed  and  vet- 
eran soldiers,  whose  encampment  was  just  outside  the  walls  of 
Rome,  took  a  nephew  of  Elagabalus,  —  Alexander  Severus,  a 
boy  of  but  seventeen  years  of  age,  —  and  made  him  emperor. 
Two  reasons  influenced  them :  first,  he  was  available ;  second, 
he  was  young,  and  they  thought  they  could  mould  him  at  their 
will. 

And  now  again  we  get  a  gleam  of  Christian  light  upon  this 
dark  scene,  —  a  gleam  of  that  Christian  influence  which  enno- 
bles statesmanship,  purifies  morals,  and  promotes  every  virtue  ; 


PAGAN  ROME.  273 

that  suMime  Christian  principle,  wliicli  requires,  that  whether 
we  eat  or  drink,  or  whatever  we  do,  we  do  all  to  the  glory  of 
God. 

The  mother  of  young  Alexander  was  a  Christian.  Never 
was  the  maxim  more  beautifully  illustrated,  that  blessed  is  the 
boy  who  has  a  pious  mother.  This  noble  woman,  notwith- 
standing all  the  unspeakable  corruptions  which  surrounded  her, 
bad  trained  her  child  in  the  faith  and  morals  of  Jesus.  Like 
a  guardian  angel,  she  had  watched  over  her  son  amidst  all  the 
temptations  of  the  palace. 

Alexander,  upon  ascending  the  throne,  in  the  very  palace 
where  Elagabalus  had  so  recently  practised  his  pagan  orgies, 
habitually  rose  at  an  early  hour,  and  upon  his  bended  knees 
implored  God's  guidance.  He  then  held  a  cabinet  council, 
aided  by  sixteen  of  the  most  virtuous  senators.  The  affairs 
of  state  were  carefully  discussed,  efforts  being  made  to  redress 
every  wrong. 

A  few  hours  were  then  set  apart  for  study,  that  he  might,  by 
intellectual  culture,  be  better  prepared  for  his  responsible  situ- 
ation. He  then  practised  for  a  time  at  the  gymnasium  for  the 
promotion  of  his  bodily  vigor.  After  lunch,  he  received  peti- 
tions and  dictated  replies  till  supper,  at  six,  which  was  the 
principal  meal  of  the  day.  Guests  of  distinction  were  alwayj 
invited  to  sup  with  him.  His  table  was  frugal,  his  dress  sim  ■ 
pie,  his  morals  were  pure,  his  manners  polished  and  courtly. 
He  adopted  for  his  motto  the  golden  maxim  of  Jesus  our  Lord : 
"  As  ye  would  that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye  also  to  them 
likewise."  ^  It  was  then  fresh  and  new.  Few  even  of  those 
who  admired  the  sentiment  knew  that  it  was  Jesus  wha  hao 
g:v^en  it  its  emphatic  announcement. 

When  Severus  appointed  a  governor  of  a  province,  he  first 
pubhcly  propounded  his  name,  that,  if  there  were  any  disquali- 
fication, it  might  be  mentioned.  "It  is  thus,"  he  said,  "the 
Christians  appoint  their  pastors  :  I  will  do  the  same  with  my 
representatives." 

And  yet,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  Alexander  Severus  does 

»  Luke  rl.  31. 
18 


274  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

not  seem  to  have  been  a  true  Cliristian.  He  was  simply  like 
many  upright,  high-minded,  honorable  young  men  now,  who 
assent  to  Christianity,  are  measurably  governed  by  its  morals, 
but  are  not  in  heart  disciples  of  Jesus. 

Alexander  was  deficient  in  moral  courage  :  he  wished  to 
compromise.  While  ho  professed  belief  in  Jesus,  he  professed 
also  belief  in  the  Roman  gods.  He  wished  to  build  a  temple 
in  Rome,  to  be  dedicated  to  Jesus  Christ,  for  Christian  wor- 
/jhip  ;  but  the  oracles  told  him,  that,  if  he  did  this,  everybody 
would  become  Christian,  and  the  temples  of  the  gods  would  be 
abandoned.  He  therefore  desisted.  Still,  throughout  his  reign, 
Christians  were  protected  so  far  as  he  could  protect  them ;  but, 
in  remote  sections  of  the  empire.  Christians  often  suffered  ter- 
ribly from  the  malice  of  pagan  magistrates,  and  from  the 
brutality  of  the  mob. 

The  reforms  of  justice  and  mercy  which  Alexander  Severus 
was  introducing  into  the  empire  were  hateful  to  the  soldiers. 
They  wished  to  give  free  range  to  their  appetites  and  passions, 
and  to  riot  in  plunder.  A  mutiny  was  excited  in  the  camp 
against  him.  In  a  paroxysm  of  rage,  the  Pretorian  Guard, 
sixteen  thousand  strong,  marched  into  the  city,  breathing 
threatenings  and  slaughter.  Por  three  days  and  three  nights, 
a  terrible  battle  raged  in  the  streets  of  Rome.  There  was  a 
wasting  conflagration,  and  multitudes  were  slain.  The  city 
was  menaced  with  total  destruction.  And  all  this  because  a 
virtuous  emperor  wished  to  protect  the  innocent,  and  to  restrain 
the  wicked  from  crime ! 

A  kind  Providence  gave  Alexander  the  victory.  The  insur- 
gents were  driven  back  to  their  camp.  Still  they  were  too 
powerful  to  be  punished.  The  whole  reign  of  Severus  waa 
harassed  and  imbittered  by  the  outrages  of  this  licentious 
soldiery. 

We  have  now  come  down  in  our  narrative  to  the  middle  of 
the  third  century.  The  Romans  were  a  very  powerful,  and  in 
many  respects  a  highly-cultivated  people.  Their  literature 
has  excited  the  admiration  of  the  world.  It  is  still  studied  in 
the  highest  seats  of  learning.     Their  paganism  was  the  best 


PAGAN  ROME.  275 

which  the  world  has  ever  knovTii.  We  have  presented  in  im- 
partial contrast  the  practical  workings  of  the  religion  of  Kome 
and  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ.  Every  thoughtful  reader 
must  be  impressed  with  the  wonderful,  the  divine  superiority 
of  Christianity.  It  must  be  manifest  to  every  reflective  mind, 
that,  in  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ,  we  find  the  only  hope  for 
our  lost  world.  That  religion  is  not  a  religion  of  dead  doctrines 
and  pompous  ceremonies,  but  one  of  a  living  faith  and  a  holy 
life. 

"  Do  right,"  says  Christianity,  —  "  right  to  God  by  loving  him 
and  worshipping  hio  as  your  heavenly  Father ;  right  to  your- 
self by  cultivating  in  your  own  heart  every  thing  that  is  pure, 
lovely,  and  of  good  report ;  right  to  your  fellow-man,  regard- 
ing him  as  your  brother,  and  doing  every  thing  in  your  power 
to  elevate  him,  purify  liim,  and  prepare  him  for  heaven.  Your 
past  sins  may  all  be  forgiven.  Christ  has  died  upon  the  cross, 
and  made  atonement  for  them.  Penitence  for  sin,  trust  in  an 
atoning  Saviour,  and  the  earnest,  prayerful  return  to  a  holy 
life,  will  open  to  you  the  gates  of  heaven,"  This  is  Christian- 
ity. It  needs  not  the  enforcement  of  labored  argument :  it  is 
its  own  best  witness.  "  He  that  believeth  on  the  Son  of  God 
hath  the  witness  in  himself."  ^ 

It  not  unfrequently  happens  that  a  young  man  gets  the  im- 
pression that  there  is  something  a  little  distinguished  in  being 
an  unbeliever.  He  assumes  the  air  of  a  sceptic,  and  takes  the 
ground  that  Christianity  is  the  religion  of  weak  minds  ;  that 
the  reason  why  he  does  not  believe  is,  that  he  has  more  intelli- 
gence and  knowledge  than  those  people  who  believe. 

Should  there  chance  to  be  such  a  one  who  reads  these  pages, 
I  would  ask  him.  How  do  you  account  for  the  fact  that  the  most 
intelligent  men  in  the  world  have  been  Christians  ?  Were 
Bacon  and  Boyle,  Sir  Matthew  Hale  and  Herschel,  men  whose 
intellectual  renown  has  filled  centuries,  weak-minded  men  ?  — 
and  yet  they  were  Christians.  Was  Napoleon  Bonaparte  a 
man  of  feeble  intellect  ?  —  yet  he  said  at  St.  Helena,  — 

"The  loftiest  intellects  since  the  advent  of    Christianity 

»  1  John  y.  10 


276  BISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

have  had  faith,  a  practical  faith,  in  the  myoteries  and  the  doc 
trines  of  the  gospel ;  not  only  Bossuet  and  Fenelon,  who  were 
preachers,  but  Descartes  and  Newton,  Leibnitz  and  Pascal, 
ComeiUe  and  Racine,  Charlemagne  and  Louis  XIV."  Were 
Washington  and  Jackson,  Clay  and  Lincoln,  ignorant  and  weak 
men  ?  —  they  were  Christians.  Are  the  presidents  in  nearly 
all  the  colleges  and  universities  of  Christendom  incapable  of 
comprehending  the  force  of  argument  ?  —  they  are  Christians. 

Was  Daniel  Webster  a  man  of  feeble  powers  of  comprehen- 
sion, incapable  of  appreciating  the  force  of  an  argument  ?  — he 
bears  the  following  testimony  to  his  faith  in  Christianity :  — 

"Philosophical  argument,  especially  that  drawn  from  the 
vastness  of  the  universe,  compared  with  the  apparent  insignifi- 
cance of  this  globe,  has  sometimes  shaken  my  reason  for  the 
faith  that  is  in  me ;  but  my  heart  has  always  assured  and  re- 
assured me  that  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  must  be  a  divine 
reality.  This  belief  enters  into  the  very  depths  of  my  con- 
science.    The  whole  history  of  man  proves  it." 

No  :  it  is  too  late  for  any  one  to  take  the  ground  that  Chris- 
tianity is  the  religion  of  ignorant  men  and  weak  women.  God 
has  given  evidence  sufficient  to  convince  every  candid  mind. 
This  evidence  is  so  abundant,  that  God  declares  it  a  great  sin 
not  to  believe.  There  is  no  crime  more  severely  denounced  in 
the  Bible  than  that  of  unbelief.  Perhaps  you  say,  "  I  cannot 
believe  without  evidence  ; "  but  God  has  given  evidence  suffi- 
cient to  convert  every  heart  which  is  not  so  wicked  that  it 
will  not  believe. 

Not  to  believe  will  surely  bring  condemnation  at  God's  bar. 
To  believe  in  Christianity,  and  yet  not  in  heart  to  accept  i'i, 
and  not  publicly  to  avow  one's  faith,  is  perhaps  a  greater  sin. 
The  declaration  of  our  Saviour  is  positive,  that  he  will  not 
recognize  at  the  judgment-day  those  who  have  not  confessed 
him  before  men. 

There  are  undoubtedly  those  who  have  wickedly  cherished  a 
spirit  of  unbelief,  until  God,  as  a  punishment,  "  has  sent  them 
jtrong  delusion,  that  they  should  believe  a  lie."  * 

»  »  Thess.  11.  11. 


PAGAN  ROME.  211 

The  following  incident  aJBfectingly  illustrates  this  truth.  The 
writer,  a  few  years  ago,  at  the  close  of  the  afternoon's  service 
in  the  chvrch  on  a  summer's  day,  was  called  upon  in  his  study 
by  a  man  of  dignified  person  and  manners,  whose  countenance 
aiid  whole  demeanor  indicated  superior  intellectual  culture,  I 
had  noticed  him  for  one  or  two  sabbaths  in  the  church.  His 
marked  features,  and  his  profound  attention  to  the  preaching, 
had  awakened  my  interest.  With  much  courtesy  he  apolo- 
gized for  intruding  upon  my  time,  hut  expressed  an  earnest 
desire  to  have  a  little  conversation  with  me. 

"I  have,"  said  he,  "for  several  sabbaths,  attended  public 
worship  in  your  church,  and  need  not  say  that  I  have  been  in- 
terested in  the  preaching ;  and  you  will  probably  be  surprised 
to  have  me  add,  that  I  cannot  believe  the  sentiments  you  advo^ 
cate.  I  cannot  believe  that  the  Bible  is  a  divine  revelation^ 
or  that  there  is  any  personal  God.  I  am  what  you  would 
probably  call  both  an  infidel  and  an  atheist ;  and  I  should 
be  glad  to  give  you  a  brief  account  of  my  history. 

*'  When  a  young  man,  I  became  interested  in  the  writings 
of  the  French  philosophers,  — Voltaire,  Helvetius,  Diderot,  and 
D'Alembert.  I  filled  ny  library  with  their  works,  and  perused 
them  with  eagerness.  Their  teachings  I  accepted.  They 
were  in  harmony  with  my  desires ;  and  I  lived  accordingly. 
Renouncing  all  faith  in  Christianity,  in  any  other  God  than 
the  powers  of  Nature,  and  in  any  future  life,  I  surrendered 
myself  unrestrained  to  the  indulgence  which  those  principles 
naturally  inculcated.  Thus  I  have  lived.  Christianity  and 
its  professors  have  ever  been  the  subjects  of  my  ridicule  and 
contempt. 

"  I  still  retain  those  principles.  The  arguments  with 
which  I  have  stored  my  mind,  and  upon  which  I  have  so 
long  relied,  appear  to  me  invincible.  I  cannot  believe  that 
the  Bible  is  any  thing  more  than  a  human  production. 
When  I  look  upon  the  world,  its  confusion  and  misery,  I 
can  see  no  evidence  that  there  is  any  God  who  takes  an 
interest  in  the  affairs  of  men.  I  see  that  the  wrong  is  just 
a8  likely  to  triumph  as  the  right.     In  the  animal  creation, 


278  HISTORY  OF  CERISTIANFTT. 

there  is,  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest,  a  regular  gradation; 
and  as  they  aU,  at  birth,  came  from  nothing,  so,  at  death,  into 
nothing  they  will  vanish. 

"  I  have  now  passed  my  threescore  years  and  ten.  I  have 
lost  most  of  my  property.  My  eyesight  is  rapidly  failing. 
The  companions  of  my  youthful  days  are  all  gone.  Most  of 
my  cliUdren  are  in  the  grave ;  and  I  have  no  more  expecta- 
tion of  meeting  them  in  another  world  than  of  meeting  my 
faithful  dog  or  my  sagacious  horse.  I  am  aged,  infirm, 
bereaved,  and  joyless.  There  is  nothing  in  the  retrospect 
of  the  past  to  give  me  pleasure :  the  present  brings  but 
weariness,  gloom,  and  sadness :  before  me  is  the  abyss  of  an- 
nihilation. 

"  Now,  could  I  only  believe  as  you  believe,  —  that  there  is  a 
loving  heavenly  Father,  who  watches  over  his  children  ;  that 
the  trials  of  this  life  are  intended  to  form  our  characters  for 
endless  happiness;  that  beyond  the  grave  there  is  immor- 
tality, happy  realms  where  the  sorrows  of  earth  are  never 
known;  that  provision  is  made  for  the  forgiveness  of  all 
my  sins  ;  and  that,  after  a  few  more  days  here,  I  could  enter 
golden  gates,  and  be  forever  in  heaven  with  the  loved  ones 
who  have  gone  before  me,  —  I  should  indeed  be  the  happiest 
man  in  the  world.  But  I  cannot  believe  it.  There  is  no 
evidence  sufficiently  strong  to  remove  my  unbelief" 

Such  was  the  confession  of  an  unbeliever ;  and  we  know 
that  such  must  be  the  moral  condition  of  every  man  who 
is  approaching  the  grave  without  the  Christian's  hope.  How 
different  from  this  was  the  testimony  of  Paul  the  Christian 
as  he  drew  near  the  close  of  his  noble  life,  even  with  the 
pains  of  martyrdom  opening  before  him  !  He  writes  to  Tim- 
othy, — 

"  I  am  now  ready  to  be  offered,  and  the  time  of  my  de- 
parture is  at  hand.  I  have  fought  a  good  fight ;  I  have 
finished  my  course ;  I  have  kept  the  faith  :  henceforth  there 
is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord, 
the  righteous  Judge,  shall  give  me  at  that  day ;  and  not  to 
me  only,  but  unto  all  them  also  that  love  his  appearing." 


PAGAN  ROME.  279 

I  will  simply  say  in  conclusion,  in  reference  to  my  unhappy 
friend,  whom  I  could  not  but  love,  that  though  he  would 
admit  that  there  was  a  Power,  which  he  called  Nature,  which 
had  introduced  him  to  this  world,  and  would  ere  long  remove 
him  from  it,  no  persuasions  of  mine  could  induce  him  to  pray 
to  that  Power  for  light  and  guidance ;  though  he  would,  appar- 
ently with  profoundest  reverence,  fall  upon  his  knees  at  my 
side,  and  listen  to  my  prayers  to  the  Creator. 

Circumstances  soon  removed  me  several  hundred  miles  from 
his  dwelling.  Whether  he  be  living  as  I  now  write  these 
lines  with  a  tearful  eye,  I  know  not.  A  few  years  ago,  after 
two  years  of  absence,  I  met  him.  Sorrow  had  left  unmistakable 
traces  upon  his  marked  features.  As  I  took  his  hand,  he  ad- 
mitted that  there  were  still  no  rays  of  light  to  gild  the  gloom 
»f  his  pathway  to  the  grave. 


CHAPTER    Xni. 


SIN   AND    MISERY. 


If axlmln  the  Goth.  —  Brutal  Assassination  of  Alexander.  —  Merciless  Proiorlp' 
tion.  —  Revolt  of  the  Army  on  the  Danube.  —  Rage  of  Maximin.  —  His  March 
upon  Rome.  —  Consternation  in  the  Capital. — Assassination  of  Maximin. — 
Successors  to  the  Throne.  —  Popular  Suffrage  unavailing.  —  Persecution  under 
Decias.  —  Individual  Cases.  —  Extent  of  the  Roman  Empire.  —  Extent  of  the 
Persecution.  —  Heroism  of  the  Christiana. 


^i 


^ 


HE  last  chapter  closed  with  the  reign  of  Alexan- 
der Severus,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  235.  His 
mother  heing  a  Christian,  her  son,  though  still, 
for  popularity's  sake,  supporting  idolatry,  was 
induced,  out  of  respect  to  his  mother,  to  ingraft 
upon  the  errors  of  paganism  many  of  the  noble 
teachings  of  Christianity.  His  death  is  asso- 
ciated with  one  of  "the  most  wild  and  wondrous  of  the  tales  of 
ancient  times. 

Alexander  Severus,  or  the  Severe,  as  he  was  called,  from  his 
puritanic  severity  of  morals,  was  returning  with  his  army 
from  a  war  expedition  to  the  East.  On  the  plains  of  Thrace 
he  stopped  to  celebrate  the  birth  of  a  son.  In  commemora- 
tion of  the  joyful  event,  there  was  a  display  of  all  the  military 
pageants  and  gymnastic  games  then  in  vogue. 

The  whole  army,  in  gorgeous  display,  was  drawn  up  on  a 
spacious  plain.  Thousands  of  the  neighboring  people  were 
assembled  to  witness  the  splendors  of  the  fete.  It  was  a  cleai 
and  beautiful   morning.      All    eyes   were   riveted  upon   the 

280 


SIN  AND  MISERY.  281 

emperor,  as,  followed  by  a  magnificent  retinue,  lie  came  gallop- 
ing upon  the  field. 

Suddenly  there  sprang  from  the  crowd  of  spectators  a 
gigantic  barbarian,  a  Goth.  With  the  speed  of  an  antelope,  he 
bounded  to  the  side  of  the  emperor's  horse.  Apparently  with- 
out the  slightest  exertion,  or  the  least  loss  of  breath,  he  kept 
pace  with  the  fleet  Arabian  charger,  as,  with  almost  the  swift- 
ness of  the  wind,  the  magnificent  steed  careered  over  the  plain. 
This  brawny  young  savage  was  eight  feet  tall,  and  was  as 
admirably  proportioned  as  the  colossal  statue  of  the  Apollo 
Belvedere. 

Giants  have  not  generally  much  intellect ;  but  this  young 
Goth  had  great  activity  and  energy  of  mind.  His  courage 
resembled  that  of  a  ferocious  wild  beast.  He  could  tire  out  a 
horse  in  a  race.  He  could  break  the  leg  of  a  horse  with  a 
blow  of  his  hand.  He  could  throw  successively,  with  appar- 
ently the  greatest  ease,  thirty  of  the  ablest  wrestlers  who 
could  be  brought  against  him.  He  demanded  for  his  daily 
food  forty  pounds  of  meat  and  twelve  quarts  of  wine.  Extraor- 
dinary as  these  statements  appear,  they  seem  to  be  well  au- 
thenticated. Such  was  the  young  barbarian,  who,  rollicking, 
leaping,  and  gambolling  around  the  emperor,  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  vast  crowd  of  soldiers  and  spectators  who 
were  spread  over  the  plain. 

Soon  the  games  were  introduced  on  the  model  of  the  world- 
renowned  Olympic  games  of  Greece.  They  consisted  of  all 
athletic  sports  of  leaping,  wrestling,  boxing.  This  young 
Goth,  Maximin  by  name,  distanced  all  competitors.  Sixteen 
of  the  stoutest  wrestlers  were  brought  forward  to  contend 
against  him.  Almost  without  exertion,  he  laid  them,  one  after 
another,  upon  their  backs. 

Gunpowder  has  equalized  strength.  A  small  man  can  pull 
a  trigger  as  well  as  a  large  one.  The  bullet  shot  from  a  rifle 
will  accomplish  equal  execution,  let  the  rifle  be  held  by  a  dwarf 
or  a  giant.  But  in  those  days,  before  the  invention  of  gun- 
powder, when  men  fought  with  clubs  and  battle-axes,  with 
massive  swords  and  heavy  cross-bo  vvs,  agility  and  strength  were 
fesaeotial  to  the  successful  warrioF. 


282  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

The  emperor  gazed  upon  the  feats  of  Maximin  with  aston- 
ishment and  admiration.  The  giant  was  an  unmitigated  bar- 
barian, whose  father  was  a  Goth,  and  whose  mother  was  from 
a  still  more  savage  tribe,  called  the  Alani.  The  emperor  took 
Maximin  into  his  service,  loaded  him  with  honors,  and  rapidly 
promoted  him  from  post  to  post  in  the  army,  until  he  became 
one  of  the  highest  generals.  The  Roman  soldiers,  accustomed 
to  do  homage  to  the  military  prowess  of  muscles  and  sinews, 
regarded  Maximin  with  great  veneration. 

Alexander  had  taken  with  him  his  Christian  mother.  She 
had  great  influence  over  her  son.  A  very  sumptuous  tent  was 
provided  for  her,  which  was  always  pitched  in  the  middle  of 
the  camp.  This  ungrateful  Goth,  Maximin,  conspired  against 
his  benefactor.  "Why,"  said  he,  "should  a  Roman  army  be 
subject  to  an  effeminate  Syrian,  the  slave  of  his  mother  ?  Sol- 
diers should  be  governed  by  soldiers ;  by  one  reared  in  the 
camp ;  by  one  who  knows  how  to  distribute  among  his  com- 
rades the  treasures  of  the  empire." 

By  these  means  a  mutiny  was  excited.  The  mutineers 
rushed  upon  Alexander,  beat  him  down  with  their  clubs,  and 
hewed  him  to  pieces  with  their  battle-axes.  With  hideous 
clamor,  the  army  proclaimed  Maximin  their  emperor.  This 
assassination  of  Alexander,  and  enthronement  of  the  barbarian 
Goth,  took  place  on  the  19th  of  March,  A.D.  235. 

Maximin,  invested  with  the  imperial  purple,  was  ashamed 
of  his  low  origin,  of  his  ignoble  birth.  He  endeavored  to  put 
every  one  to  death  who  knew  him  when  he  was  an  untamed  sav- 
age. Four  thousand  were  thus  handed  over  to  the  assassin  and 
the  executioner.  Conscious  of  his  low  breeding,  his  ignorance, 
and  his  ungainly  address,  he  would  not  allow  any  person  of 
cultivated  mind  or  polished  manners  to  appear  in  his  presence, 
lest  others  should  notice  the  contrast.  He  did  not  live  iu  the 
gorgeous  saloons  of  the  palace,  surrounded  by  a  splendid  court, 
where  he  would  not  be  at  home,  and  where  he  knew  not  how 
to  behave,  but  remained  in  the  camp,  surrounded  by  soldiers 
who  were  ever  ready  to  obey  his  most  ferocious  bidding.  He 
avoided  every  thing  which  could  bring  him  too  broadly  in  con- 
trast with  metropolitan  refinement. 


SIN  AND  MISERY.  283 

This  cruel  despot  was  very  ingenious  in  devising  modes  of 
torture  for  those  whom  he  even  suspected  of  being  unfriendly 
to  him.  There  was  no  form  of  cruel  death  to  which  he  did  not 
resort  to  avenge  himself  upon  his  enemies.  Maximin  was  in- 
satiate in  his  grasping  for  wealth.  He  even  robbed  idolatrous 
temples,  and  melted  down  into  coin  the  exquisite  statues  of 
gold  and  silver.  He  hated  Christianity,  and  ordered  the 
churches  to  be  burned,  and  the  pastors  and  officers  of  the 
churches  to  be  put  to  death.  This  persecution  was  short  in 
its  duration,  but  terrible  while  it  lasted.  Maximin  reigned 
thirteen  years.  It  seems  short,  as  we  look  back  upon  that 
period  through  the  lapse  of  fifteen  centuries  ;  but  it  must  have 
been  awful  for  Christians  to  have  endured  thirteen  years  of 
bloody  persecution  under  such  a  monster. 

There  occurred  several  disastrous  earthquakes  during  his 
reign.  He  attributed  them  to  the  displeasure  of  the  gods,  in 
consequence  of  the  Christians  forsaking  the  idols.  Thus  the 
fanatic  fury  of  the  mob,  as  well  as  the  cruel  energies  of  the 
governmental  arm,  were  turned  against  the  disciples  of  Jesus. 
The  mob  pursued  all  Christians  with  the  most  cruel  and  re- 
volting outrages,  and  their  vilest  atrocities  were  sustained  and 
encouraged  by  the  government.  Such  was  the  persecution 
which  raged  nearly  sixteen  hundred  years  ago,  and  is  now 
nearly  forgotten ;  indeed,  many  are  not  aware  that  it  ever 
existed. 

Maximin  was  with  his  army  on  the  banks  of  the  Danube. 
He  rewarded  his  soldiers  abundantly  with  license  and  plunder. 
There  was  another  Roman  army  in  Africa.  The  soldiers  there 
rose  in  revolt  against  Maximin.  They  chose  Gordian,  gov- 
ernor of  the  province,  emperor.  He  was  a  wealthy  Eomau 
gentleman,  eighty  years  of  age.  A  son  of  his  was  to  share 
with  his  father  the  cares  of  empire. 

But  Maximin  was  not  to  be  trifled  with.  Raging  like  a 
wild  beast,  and  gnashing  his  teeth  with  fury,  he  put  his  army 
on  a  rapid  march  for  Africa.  In  one  bloody  battle  the  troops 
of  Gordian  were  almost  annihilated.  The  son  was  slain  in 
battle :  the  father  in  despair  committed  suicide. 


284  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

The  senate  in  Rome,  detesting  Maximin,  the  brutal  bar- 
barian monster,  had  ventured  to  espouse  the  cause  of  Gor- 
dian.  The  maddened  Maximin  turned  his  march  towards 
Rome.  The  powerless  senate  was  in  utter  dismay.  Not 
only  confiscation  and  death  awaited  them  and  their  famUiea, 
but  death  in  its  most  cruel  form.  The  whole  city  was  agi- 
tated with  terror. 

There  was  every  reason  to  fear  that  the  barbarian,  with 
his  demoniac  soldiery,  marching  beneath  the  blood-red  banner 
of  plunder  and  slaughter,  would  put  the  inhabitants  to  the 
sword,  and  commit  the  city  to  the  flames.  It  was  the  custom- 
ary vengeance  for  conquerors  in  those  days  to  burn  every 
dwelling  of  their  foes,  and  to  put  every  man,  woman,  and  chili 
to  death,  excepting  a  few  of  the  young  and  beautiful,  who 
were  reserved  to  groom  their  horses,  and  to  fill  their  harems. 

The  senate,  in  terror,  made  desperate  efforts  to  meet  the 
emergency.  The  populace  of  Rome  were  aware  of  their  dan- 
ger. A  new  army  was  very  quickly  raised.  Two  emperors 
were  chosen :  one,  a  wealthy  Roman  noble,  by  the  name  of 
Balbinus,  was  to  remain  at  Rome,  and  attend  to  the  civU  ad- 
ministration there ;  the  other,  Maximus,  a  brave  and  veteran 
soldier,  was  placed  in  command  of  the  army,  which  consisted 
of  the  Pretorian  Guard  of  sixteen  thousand  men,  encamped 
just  outside  the  walls  of  Rome,  and  such  recruits  as  could  be 
added  to  them. 

Maximin,  almost  literally  roaring  with  rage,  was  pressing 
forward  by  forced  marches.  Plunder,  slaughter,  and  smoul- 
dering ruins,  marked  his  path.  He  had  crossed  the  Julian 
Alps.  The  wretched  inhabitants  fled  before  him.  But  at 
length  his  atrocities  created  a  mutiny  among  his  own  soldiers. 
A  fiendlike  band  rushed  into  his  tent,  pierced  him  through 
and  through  ^zith  their  javelins,  cut  off  his  head,  and,  with 
derision  and  insult,  paraded  it  on  a  pike  through  the  camp. 

All  Rome  rang  with  shouts  of  joy,  and  blazed  with  illumi- 
nations, when  it  was  reported  that  the  tyrant  was  dead.  But 
anarchy  ensued.  The  soldiery,  composed  principally  of  the 
most  desperate  vagabonds  of  the  city,  were  not  disposed  to 


SIN  AND  MISERY.  285 

accept  an  emperor  elected  by  the  senate.  Conscious  of  their 
power,  they  resolved  to  place  one  of  their  own  favorites  upon 
the  imperial  throne. 

In  a  resistless,  organized  mob,  they  strode  into  the  city  in 
solid  battalions,  battered  down  the  doors  of  the  palace  where 
the  two  emperors  were  in  council,  pierced  them  with  a  thou- 
sand spears,  dragged  their  mangled  bodies,  by  ropes  tied  to 
their  heels,  with  hideous  yells  through  the  streets,  and  threw 
the  gory  remains  into  a  ditch,  to  be  devoured  by  dogs.  In  six 
months,  five  Ilom.an  emperors  had  thus  perished  by  violence. 
Think  how  vast  the  change  which  the  teachings  of  Jesus 
have  introduced,  refining  manners,  giving  laws,  purifying 
morals ! 

When  we  reflect  upon  such  scenes,  it  is  impossible  to  deny 
that  the  teachings  of  Jesus  have  wrought  the  most  aston- 
ishing and  salutary  changes  in  the  world.  It  is  not  too  much 
to  say,  that  pagan  Rome  in  its  palmiest  days  was  far  below 
Christian  Rome  in  its  greatest  degeneracy.  Christianity  has 
introduced  refinement  of  manners,  more  equitable  laws,  and 
morals  immeasurably  superior  to  any  thing  which  existed 
around  the  shrines  of  idolatry.  And  yet  these  are  only  the 
incidental  blessings,  over  and  above  the  salvation  of  the  souls 
of  those  who  became  spiritually  the  disciples  of  Jesus,  ac- 
cepted him  as  their  Saviour,  and  who  brought  their  hearts  and 
lives  into  sympathy  with  his  teachings.  There  were  millions 
of  such,  who  are  now  in  the  realms  of  glory,  of  whom  history 
made  no  record. 

The  soldiers  took  a  boy  thirteen  years  of  age,  and,  bearing 
him  triumphantly  to  the  camp,  jocosely  made  him  emperor. 
The  senate,  with  sixteen  thousand  swords  at  its  throat,  waa 
compelled  to  ratify  their  choice.  Soon,  however,  an  ambitious 
general,  named  Philip,  poisoned  the  boy,  and  induced  the 
soldiers  to  proclaim  himself  emperor. 

It  is  said  that  this  Philip  had  once  professed  Christianity, 
but,  having  yielded  to  the  temptations  which  surrounded  him, 
had  been  excluded  from  the  Church  for  his  crimes.  Ho  had 
%n.  enlightened  conscience ;  but  his  Christian  character,  as  in 


2?y6  BISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 

many  other  cases,  fell  a  sacrifice  to  his  ambition.  He  was  a 
weak  man.  Though  he  did  not  directly  persecute  the  Chris- 
tians, he  did  not  venture  to  protect  them.  His  reign  was 
short,  —  only  five  years. 

The  army  on  the  Danube  chose  one  of  their  generals  — 
Decius  —  emperor.  The  two  rival  armies,  under  their  several* 
sovereigns,  soon  met  near  Verona,  and  engaged  in  terrible 
mutual  slaughter.  Both  sides  were  equally  bad.  God  left 
them  to  scourge  and  torture  and  devour  one  another.  It  is 
thus  that  he  often  punishes  wicked  nations,  by  leaving 
them  to  destroy  themselves.  Philip's  soldiers  were  routed. 
They  turned  upon  him,  cut  off  his  head,  and  joined  the 
conqueror.  Decius  marched  triumphantly  to  Kome,  where 
the  senate  and  people  welcomed  an  emperor  who  cotdd  en- 
force his  title  with  so  many  glittering  swords. 

To  the  eye  of  reason,  nothing  can  seem  more  absurd  than 
the  doctrine  of  hereditary  descent  of  power.  That  a  babe, 
a  feeble  girl,  a  semi-idiot,  or  a  monster  of  depravity,  should 
be  invested  with  sovereign  power  over  millions,  merely  from 
the  accident  of  birth,  appears  preposterous.  But,  if  there  be 
neither  intelligence  nor  virtue  in  a  nation,  the  chance  of  birth 
may  give  as  good  a  ruler  as  the  chance  of  popular  sufirage. 

Rome  had  become  so  dissolute,  that  had  every  name  in  the 
empire  been  cast  into  the  wheel  of  a  lottery,  and  the  first 
one  thrown  out  been  accepted  as  emperor,  the  result  could  not 
have  been  more  disastrous  than  that  which  ensued  from  the 
vote  of  the  army  and  the  senate. 

In  wolfish  bands,  savage  hordes  from  the  forests  of  the 
north  came  pouring  across  the  Danube,  plundering,  burning, 
and  putting  to  the  sword  aU  before  them.  Rome,  weakened 
by  division,  was  poorly  prepared  to  resist  such  a  foe.  Decius 
marched  timidly  to  meet  the  inrolling  flood  of  barbarians. 
With  hyena  yells  they  rushed  upon  him,  scattering  his  forces 
as  wolves  scatter  sheep.  Scaling  the  walls  of  Philippopoli, 
they  slaughtered  in  cold  blood  the  whole  population,  amount- 
ing to  a  hundred  thousand  souls.  This  was  the  first  suc- 
eeesful  irruption  of  the  barbarians  into  the  Roman   empire. 


SIN  AND  MISERY.  287 

This  momentous  event  took  place  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  250. 
No  tongue  can  tell  the  dismay  which  thrilled  all  hearts  in 
Rome  as  the  appalling  tidings  reached  them  that  the  barba- 
rians had  conquered  and  annihilated  a  Roman  army,  and 
were  on  the  triumphant  march  to  the  capital. 

Decius  was  slain  :  his  body,  trampled  into  the  mire  of  a 
morass,  was  never  found. 

Under  the  reign  of  Decius  there  was  a  dreadful  persecution 
of  the  Christians,  which  was  commenced  in  Alexandria.  We 
can  infer  its  character  from  the  following  incidents.  A  young 
Christian,  named  Matran,  was  first  scourged  with  terrible 
severity ;  his  eyes  were  then  burned  out  with  red-hot  irons ; 
he  was  then  stoned  to  death.  A  Christian  young  lady,  by 
the  name  of  Quinta,  had  a  long  rope  tied  about  her  feet; 
then  the  brutal  mob,  seizing  the  rope,  dragged  her  upon  the 
nip,  with  yells  of  derision  and  rage,  over  the  rough  pavement, 
till  life  was  extinct,  and  the  poor  mangled  body  had  lost  all 
semblance  of  humanity.  But  we  cannot  proceed  with  this 
recital.  It  would  be  inflicting  too  much  pain  upon  the  sensi- 
bilities of  our  readers  to  have  faithfully  pictured  to  them  the 
sufferings  of  the  maiden  Apollonia,  of  Sempion,  and  of  many 
others,  whose  martyrdom  history  has  minutely  recorded. 

Decius  published  a  bloody  edict  against  the  Christians,  and 
sent  it  to  the  governors  of  all  the  provinces.  They  were  or- 
dered vigilantly  to  search  out  Christians,  and  to  punish  them 
with  the  utmost  severity,  —  by  scourging,  by  burning  at  the 
stake,  by  beheading,  by  tossing  them  to  wild  beasts,  by  the 
dungeon,  by  seating  them  in  iron  chairs  heated  red-hot,  by 
tearing  out  the  eyes  with  burning  irons,  by  tearing  the  flesh 
from  the  bones  with  steel  pincers.  Demoniac  ingenuity  was 
devised  to  lure  them  to  sin,  or  to  force  them  to  renounce  their 
Saviour. 

In  Smyrna,  two  eminent  Christians,  Pionius  and  Metrodoie, 
underwent  a  rigorous  examination.  We  have  a  record  of  the 
questions  and  the  answers.  Every  effort  was  made  by  prom- 
ises and  by  threats  to  induce  them  to  recant ;  but  they  re- 
mained firm  in  their  Christian  integrity.     They  were  then 


288  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

nailed  to  crosses,  cruel  spikes  being  driven  through  their 
hands  and  their  feet.  The  crosses  were  planted  in  the  ground, 
and  heaps  of  combustibles  were  piled  around  for  the  funeral 
pyre.  Before  the  torch  was  apph'ed,  they  were  again  entreated 
fco  deny  Christ. 

"  If  you  will  do  so,"  said  the  proconsul,  "  the  spikes  shall 
immediately  be  drawn  out,  and  your  lives  shall  be  preserved." 

Their  only  reply  was  a  prayer  to  the  Lord  Jesus  to  receive 
their  spirits.  The  flames  crackled  and  roared  around  them, 
enveloping  them  as  in  a  fiery  furnace.  In  the  chariot  of  fire, 
their  united  spirits  ascended  to  the  martyr's  crown.  Page 
after  page  might  be  filled  with  similar  recitals ;  but  enough 
has  already  been  said  to  give  an  idea  of  the  frantic  yet 
unavailing  efforts  which  wicked  men  have  made  to  obliterate 
Christianity  from  the  world.  These  scenes  remind  one  of  the 
revelation  written  by  the  "  beloved  apostle  "  to  the  "  angel," 
or  pastor,  of  the  church  in  Smyrna :  — 

"  These  things  saith  the  First  and  the  Last,  which  was  dead, 
and  is  alive :  I  know  thy  works  and  tribulation  and  poverty 
(but  thou  art  rich)  ;  and  I  know  the  blasphemy  of  them  which 
say  they  are  Jews,  and  are  not,  but  are  the  synagogue  of  Satan. 
Fear  none  of  those  things  which  thou  shalt  suffer :  behold,  the 
devil  shall  cast  some  of  you  into  prison,  that  ye  may  be  tried ; 
and  ye  shall  have  tribulation  ten  days :  be  thou  faithful  unto 
death,  and  I  will  give  thee  a  crown  of  life.  .  .  .  He  that 
overcometh  shall  not  be  hurt  of  the  second  death."  ^ 

Upon  the  death  of  Decius,  the  senate,  terrified  by  the  de- 
struction of  the  army  and  by  the  approach  of  the  barbarians, 
again  chose  two  emperors.  Hostilianus  was  invested  with 
the  civil,  and  Gallus  with  the  military  command.  Rome, 
Christianity-persecuting  Rome,  had  already  sunk  so  low,  that 
Gallus  was  compelled  to  the  ignominy  of  purchasing  peace 
with  the  barbarians  on  the  most  degrading  and  revolting  terms. 
They  were  permitted  to  retire  unmolested  with  all  their  plun- 
der and  with  all  their  captives,  consisting  of  thousands  of  Ro- 
mans, young  men  and  beautiful  women,  to  till  the  soU,  and 

»  Rev.  li.  8-10. 


SIN  AND  MISERY.  289 

serve  in  the  harems  of  the  barbarian  Gotha  By  the  law  of 
retribution,  this  was  right.  Rome  had  made  slaves  of  all  na- 
tions  :  it  was  just  that  Rome  should  drink  of  the  cup  of 
slavery  herself. 

Gallus,  the  military  emperor,  wished  to  reign  alone  :  he 
therefore  poisoned  Hostilianus.  There  was  a  Roman  army  on 
t!ie  Danube.  The  soldiers  there  proclaimed  their  general, 
/Emilianus,  emperor.  Gallus  marched  to  meet  him ;  but  hia 
soldiers  despised  his  weakness,  and  slew  him  and  his  son,  and 
then  joined  the  army  of  iEmilianus. 

The  Roman  empire  at  this  time,  about  the  middle  of  the 
third  century,  consisted  of  a  belt  of  territory  about  a  thou- 
sand miles  in  breadth,  encircling  the  Mediterranean  Sea  as 
a  central  lake.  All  beyond  were  unknown  savage  wilds. 
Throughout  aU  this  vast  region.  Paganism  was  assailing 
Christianity  with  the  most  malignant  and  deadly  energies. 

And  yet  the  zeal  of  the  Christians  was  such,  that  whde 
3ome,  yielding  to  the  terrors  which  threatened  them,  denied 
Christ,  many  went  gladly  to  martyrdom.  No  one  could  tell 
how  seen  his  hour  would  come.  The  life  of  the  Christian  was 
In  daily  peril  from  the  executioner  or  from  the  mob ;  and 
yet  many  of  those  Christians,  inspired  with  supernat^ixal  zeal 
and  courage,  devoted  themselves  entirely  to  the  or*en  and 
earnes*"  preaching  of  the  gospel. 

"  I  send  you  forth  as  sheep  in  the  midfc  of  wolves,"  said 
Christ.  They  accepted  the  mission.  In  the  thjronged  streets 
of  the  city,  like  Paul  at  Athens,  whilt?  Mome  gnashed  their 
teeth  with  rage,  and  others  heard  them  gladly,  they  proclaimed 
sa.vation  tlirough  faith  in  an  atoning  Saviour.  Two  and  two 
they  penetrated  the  villages,  and  wandered  through  the  sparse- 
ly-settled country,  with  the  sublime  and  astounding  doctrine, 
that  God,  in  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ,  had  suffered  upon 
the  cross  to  make  an  atonement  for  sin ;  and  that  now  all 
who  wished  to  reach  heaven  were  to  acknowledge  this  Saviour, 
and  live  according  to  his  teachings,  at  whatever  hazard. 

Thus,  notwithstanding  the  persecutions,  converts  were  mul- 
tiplisd      For  every  one  who  was  slain,  perhaps  two  rose  to 


290  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

take  his  place.  The  persecutors  themselves,  like  Saul  of  Tar- 
sus, often  became  converts,  and  preached  that  faith  which 
they  had  once  endeavored  to  destroy.  Even  the  unbelieving 
Gibbon,  who  seldom  loses  an  opportunity  to  show  his  hostility 
to  the  religion  of  Jesus,  admits  that  the  zeal  of  the  early 
Christians  in  preaching  the  gospel,  their  fortitude  under  the 
most  dreadful  sufferings,  the  purity  of  their  morals,  and  their 
love  for  one  another,  were  among  the  potent  influences  which 
enabled  Christianity  to  triumph  over  the  imperial  power  of  the 
Caesars  and  the  malignity  of  the  mob,  to  overthrow  all  the 
gorgeous  altars  of  paganism,  and  to  establish  itself  firmly 
upon  the  ruins  of  the  most  imposing  system  of  idolatry  the 
w^orld  has  e\  er  known. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


INVASION     CIVIL   WAR,    AND    UNRELENTING   PERSECUTION. 


EmUlanus  and  Valerian.  —  Barbaric  Hordes.  —  Slavery  and  its  Retribution.  —  Awfol 
Fate  of  Valerian.  — Ruin  of  the  Roman  Empire.  — Zenobia  and  her  Captivity. 
—  The  Slave  Diocletian  becomes  Emperor.  — His  Reign,  Abdication,  Death.— 
Division  of  the  Empire.  — Terrible  Persecution.  — The  Glory  of  Christianity.- 
Characteristics  of  the  First  Three  Centuries.  — Abasement  of  Rome 


BOUT  this  time,  near  the  close  of  the  third  cen- 
tury of  the  Christian  era,  the  barbarians  who 
surrounded  the  Roman  empire  commenced  with 
great  vigor  their  resistless  ravages.  Along  the 
whole  line  of  the  Danube,  they  swarmed  in  locust 
legions  across  the  frontiers.  Still  the  infatuated 
Romans,  instead  of  combining  against  the  com- 
mon foe,  were  wasting  their  energies  in  persecuting  the  Chris- 
tians and  in  desolating  civil  wars. 

A  Roman  general,  by  the  name  of  .-Emilianus,  was  in  com- 
mand of  the  army  upon  the  Danube.  His  soldiers  had  chosen 
him  emperor.  There  was  another  Roman  army  in  France, 
then  called  Gaul.  This  Gallic  army  chose  their  general.  Vale- 
rian, emperor.  These  two  hostile  forces  marched  to  settle  the 
question  on  the  field  of  battle.  As  the  antagonistic  hosts 
drew  near  each  other,  the  soldiers  of  .^milianus,  deeming  the 
opposite  army  the  stronger,  murdered  their  general,  whom 
they  had  chosen  emperor,  and,  with  loud  huzzas,  rallied  around 
the  banner  of  Valerian. 

Yvom  the  remote  East,  from  Persia,  and  from  the  Indies, 
tribss  of  uncouth  names,  language,  and  dress,  were  ravaging 


292  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

all  those  wild  frontiers  of  the  empire.  Valerian,  an  old 
man  of  seventy  years,  sent  his  son  Gallienus  with  an  army 
to  drive  back  these  hordes  into  Persia.  He  himself,  in  the 
mean  time^  repaired  in  person  to  the  Danube  to  assail  the  bar- 
barians there.  But  the  irruption  of  these  ferocious  bands  was 
like  the  resistless  flood  of  the  tide  :  it  could  not  be  arrested. 
In  wave  after  wave  of  invasion,  they  swept  over  France  and 
Spain.  They  even  crossed  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  and  entered 
Africa.  An  immense  tribe  came  howling  through  the  defiles 
of  the  Rhaetian  Alps,  and  swept  over  the  plains  of  Lombardy. 

Another  vast  army  descended  those  then  unexplored  rivers 
flowing  from  the  north  into  the  Black  Sea,  ravaging  all  the 
coasts  of  Asia  Minor,  glutting  themselves  with  plunder,  mas- 
sacring the  old,  and  cstrrying  off  the  young.  With  how  little 
emotion  we  read  such  a  narrative !  and  yet  how  awful  must 
have  been  the  desolation  and  misery  which  were  inflicted  by 
these  wolfish  barbari»'?.s  r».pon  the  wretched  :.nb.abitants  ! 

These  wild  beings,  in  boats  made  of  the  skins  of  beasts, 
floated  down  the  Ecppliorus  and  the  Hellespont ;  and  the  illus- 
trious men  and  beautifal  women  of  Greece  were  captured  by 
these  demons  in  human  form.  The  descendants  of  Demos- 
thenes and  of  Aristides,  of  Plato  and  of  Aspasia,  were  dragged 
into  hopeless  and  endless  slavery. 

Five  hundred  years  before  this,  a  distinguished  Grecian 
philosopher,  Aristotle,  had  written  a  book  to  prove  that  slave- 
ry was  right ;  that  it  was  right  for  the  more  powerful  nations 
to  enslave  the  weaker  ones.  The  wheel  had  now  turned, 
though  it  had  been  five  hundred  years  in  turning.  The  bar- 
barian Goths  were  the  more  powerful,  and  the  intellectual  and 
polished  Greeks  the  less  powerful.  These  shaggy  monsters, 
as  wild  as  the  beasts  whose  skins  they  wore,  were  but  carrying 
out  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle  as  they  dragged  the  boys  and 
girls  of  Greece  into  bondage. 

Gloriously  the  religion  of  Jesus  beams  forth  amidst  all 
these  horrors.  "  God  hath  made  of  one  blood  all  nations." ' 
"Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should  do  to  you,   do  ye 

1  Acts  xvii.  26. 


INVASION.  —  CIVIL    WAR.  —  PERSECUTION.  293 

even  so  to  them."  ^  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thy- 
Belf." « 

The  Emperor  Valerian  pressed  on  with  his  Roman  legions 
to  attack  the  barbarians  in  the  Far  East.  He  crossed  the  Eu- 
phrates, and  encountered  the  Persian  host,  drawn  up  in  defiant 
battle-array  on  the  plains  of  Mesopotamia.  A  terrible  battle 
was  fought,  and  the  Roman  army  cut  to  pieces.  The  con- 
querors took  Valerian  prisoner;  and  God,  in  awful  retri- 
bution, compelled  the  cavitive  emperor  to  drink  to  the  dregs 
that  bitter  cup  of  slavery  which  the  Roman  emperors,  for 
so  many  centuries,  had  forced  to  the  lips  of  all  the  other 
nations. 

Derisively  tb.e  Persians  robed  the  captive  emperor  in  impe- 
rial purple.  He  was  compelled  to  kneel  upon  his  hands  and 
his  feet  in  the  mud,  that  Sapor,  his  conqueror,  might  use  him 
as  a  block,  putting  his  foot  upon  his  back  as  he  mounted  his 
horse.  Eor  seven  years.  Valerian  was  kept  as  a  slave  in  Per- 
sia. He  was  exposed  to  every  indignity  which  pride  and 
revenge  could  heap  upon  him.  At  last,  with  demoniac  bar- 
barity, they  put  out  his  eyes,  and  skinned  him  alive.  His 
skin,  dyed  red,  was  stuffed,  and  preserved  for  ages  in  commem- 
oration of  Persia's  triumph  over  imperial  Rome. 

Gallienus,  upon  the  captivity  of  his  father,  was  invested 
with  the  imperial  sceptre.  Appalled  by  the  fate  of  Valerian, 
he  dared  not  march  to  attack  the  barbarians.  Sheltering 
himself  in  Rome,  he  endeavored  to  bribe  the  Goths  and  Van- 
dals to  cease  their  -.-avages.  The  barbarians  accepted  his 
bribes,  despised  his  weakness,  and  continued  their  forrays. 

The  Roman  empire  was  in  hopeless  ruin.  There  was  no 
longer  recognized  government  or  recognized  law.  In  all  di- 
rections, ambitious  generals  were  rising  in  struggles  for  the 
crown.  In  the  course  of  twelve  years,  more  than  thirty  of 
these  claimants  appeared.  The  whole  empire  was  swept  by 
the  blood-red  surges  of  civil  war.  In  those  twelve  years,  i'-  is 
estimated  that  the  Roman  empire,  by  civil  war  and  barbaric 
invasion,  lost  one-half  of  its  population.     The  sword,  famine 

»  Matt.  vli.  12.  »  Mark  xil.  31. 


294  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

and  pestilence  swept  off  a  hundred  and  fifty  millions  of  the 
inhabitants. 

These  barbarians  ravaged  the  empire  in  aU  directions,  per- 
petrating horrors  indescribable.  Several  times  they  flaunted 
their  defiant  flag  within  sight  of  the  dome  of  the  capitol  at 
Rome.  Aureolus,  an  insurgent  general,  marched  upon  Rome 
with  an  army  fi:om  the  Upper  Danube.  Gallienus  advanced 
to  meet  him.  In  the  tumult  of  a  midnight  battle,  he  was 
slain  by  one  of  his  own  soldiers.  T^ith  his  dying  breath  he 
named  one  of  his  most  distinguished  generals,  Claudius,  em- 
peror.    The  senate  accepted  him. 

Claudius  captured  Aureolus,  and  put  him  to  death.  The 
oarbarians  now,  in  armaments  more  formidable  than  ever 
before,  were  crossing  the  frontiers  in  a  line  fifteen  hundred 
miles  in  length,  extending  from  the  German  Ocean  to  the 
waves  of  the  Euxine. 

An  immense  army  of  Goths,  numbering  three  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  men,  in  six  thousand  barges,  descended  the 
Dneister  to  the  Black  Sea.  Hence,  passing  through  the  Bos- 
phorus,  they  entered  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  and  swept  resist- 
lessly  over  all  the  provinces  of  ancient  Greece.  Claudius 
attacked  them.  In  a  momentary  revival  of  the  ancient  Ro- 
man vigor,  he  drove  them  back  to  their  forests.  In  the  pur- 
suit, Claudius  died;  and  the  sceptre  passed  to  Aurelian,  the 
son  of  a  peasant,  but  one  of  Rome's  ablest  generals.  He  pur- 
sued the  Goths  with  astonishing  energy,  smiting  them  with  a 
lod  of  iron.  He  drove  them  from  France,  Spain,  and  Britain, 
and  then  prepared  to  attack  them  in  the  Far  East. 

Among  the  many  rivals  for  the  imperial  throne  who  at  this 
time  sprang  up,  there  was  one  named  Odenathus,  at  Palmyra, 
near  the  Euphrates.  He  maintained  his  sovereignty  over 
many  wide  provinces  there  for  twelve  years.  Dying,  he  trans- 
mitted his  sceptre  to  his  widow  Zenobia.  Her  history  was  so 
wonderful  as  to  merit  particular  notice. 

Queen  Zenobia  was  an  extraordinary  woman.  She  was  as 
graceful  in  form  as  a  sylph,  marvellously  beautiful  in  features, 
and  endowed  with  the  highest  intelligence.     She  spoke  flu- 


INVASION.  —CIVIL    WAR. — PERSECUTION  295 

ently  four  languages,  —  Latin,  Greek,  Egyptian,  and  Syriac. 
What  was  still  more  wonderful  for  a  woman  in  those  days^ 
she  was  an  author,  and  had  written  an  epitome  of  Oriental 
history.  Her  domain  extended  from  the  Euphrates  to  the 
Mediterranean.  The  oeli^brated  Longiniis,  whose  fame  is 
known  to  every  student,  iv'Pa  her  secretary. 

Without  assuming  anj  hostility  with  the  powers  at  Home, 
Zenobia,  for  five  year^,  maintained  uncontrolled  command  over 
this  eastern  division  of  tlie  empire.  Aurelian  marched  against 
her.  The  witty  satiri?tB  of  Kome  lampooned  him  for  making 
war  against  a  woman.  Aurelian  replied  in  a  communication 
to  the  senate,  — 

"  Some  speak  with  contempt  of  war  against  a  woman. 
They  know  not  the  character  or  the  power  of  Zenobia.  It  is 
impossible  to  enumerate  her  warlike  preparations,  of  etoneg, 
arrows,  and  every  species  of  missile  weapon.  She  has  numer- 
ous and  powerful  military  engines  from  which  artificial  fire  is 
thrown.  The  dread  of  punishment  has  armed  her  with  des- 
peration.    Yet  I  trust  in  the  protecting  deities  of  Rome." 

After  several  sanguinary  battles,  in  which  Zenobia  was 
worsted,  she  retired  to  her  citadel  within  the  walls  of  Pal- 
myra. As  the  Romans  vigorously  pressed  the  siege,  she,  con- 
scious of  the  doom  that  awaited  her  should  she  be  captured, 
attempted  to  escape  on  one  of  her  fleetest  dromedaries.  She 
had  reached  the  distance  of  sixty  miles,  when  she  was  over- 
taken, and  brought  back,  a  captive,  to  Aurelian. 

The  Roman  victor  showed  no  mercy.  Longinus,  the  illus- 
trious scholar,  was  sent  to  the  block.  Palmyra  was  sacked, 
and  nearly  destroyed.  All  the  aged  men  and  women  and  the 
young  children  were  put  to  the  sword.  Zenobia  and  a  mul- 
titude of  boys  and  girls  were  carried  captive  to  Rome.  Such 
a  trivunph  the  decaying  city  had  not  witnessed  for  years.  It 
was  the  dying  flickering  of  the  lamp.  Twenty  elephants, 
four  tigers,  and  two  hundred  of  the  most  imposing  animals  of 
the  East,  led  the  pompous  procession.  The  vast  plunder  of 
the  Oriental  cities  was  ostentatiously  paraded. 

An  immense  train  of  captives  followed  to  give  eclat  to  the 


296  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

triumph.  Conspicuous  among  these  slaves  was  Zenobia,  radi- 
ant  with  pensive  beauty.  She  was  robed  in  the  most  gor- 
geous attiro  of  the  Orient.  Fetters  of  gold  bound  her  beautiful 
arms ;  and  she  tottered  beneath  the  burden  of  jewelry  and 
precious  stones  with  which  she  was  decorated.  Iler  magnifi- 
cent chariot  was  drawn  by  Arabian  cnargers  richly  caparisoned. 
The  captive  queen  followed  it  on  foot.  All  eyes  were  riveted 
upon  her. 

Aurelian  rode  in  a  triumphal  car  drawn  by  four  stags.  The 
Roman  senate  in  flowing  robes,  the  bannered  army,  and  the 
countless  populace,  closed  the  procession.  This  was  the  last 
of  Rome's  triumphs.  The  reign  of  anarchy  commenced. 
Aurelian  was^  cut  down  by  assassins. 

For  two  or  three  hundred  years,  but  three  or  four  Roman 
emperors  had  died  a  natural  death.  For  eight  months  after 
the  assassination  of  Aurelian,  there  was  no  emperor.  No 
man  seemed  willing  to  accept  the  crown,  —  it  was  so  sure  to 
bring  upon  him  the  assassin's  dagger.  The  glory  of  Rome 
had  departed  forever. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  the  world  about  the  middle  of 
the  third  century.  Pagan  Rome  had  fallen  through  her  own 
com;ption.  Her  polluted  shrines  were  abandoned,  and  her 
idolatrous  temples  were  mouldering  to  decay.  Christianity 
was  steadily  undermining  the  proudest  temples  of  pagan  wor- 
ship. The  disciples  of  Jesus,  purified  by  persecution,  were 
preaching  that  pure  faith  which  was  dethroning  idols,  break- 
ing fetters,  educating  the  ignorant,  and  regenerating  the 
wicked. 

There  was  at  this  time  in  Rome  a  venerable  old  man,  of 
vast  wealth  and  singular  purity  of  character,  named  Tacitus. 
He  had  been  a  kind  friend  to  the  poor.  Weary  of  anarchy, 
the  people  gathered  in  tumultuous  thousands  around  his  man- 
sion, demanding  that  he  should  be  emperor.  Earnestly  he 
begged  to  be  excused. 

But,  just  at  this  time,  tidings  came  that  the  barbarians  from 
the  East  were  crowding  across  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris. 
They  were  plundering,  burning,  and  massacring  in  all  direc- 


INVASION.  —  CIVIL    WAR. — PERSECUTION.  297 

tioLS.  The  soldiers  were  clamoroua  for  an  emperor  to  lead 
them  to  repel  this  invasion.  Tliia  noble  old  man  of  seventy- 
five  years  was  compelled  to  yield.  Ke  put  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  army,  and  had  advanced  to  within  a  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  of  the  Euphrates,  when  the  soldiers  rose  in 
mutiny,  and  killed  him. 

Diocletian,  who  had  been  a  slave,  grasped  the  crown  by  the 
energies  of  his  strong  mind  and  his  brawny  arm.  A  few 
bloody  conflicts  ensued ;  but  he  was  a  resolute  man,  and  oppo- 
sition soon  melted  before  him.  As  it  waa  no  longer  possible 
to  hold  the  empire  together,  assailed  as  it  was  in  every  quarter 
by  the  barbarians,  Diocletian  sagaciously  divided  it  in'o  four 
parts :  — 

1.  France,  Spain,  and  England  were  made  one  kingdom, 
and  assigned  to  Oonstantiuo. 

2.  The  German  provinces  on  the  Danube  made  another 
kingdom,  which  vas  aUctted  to  Galerius. 

3.  A  third  realm  was  composed  of  Italy  and  Africa,  where 
Maximian  was  invested  with  the  sovereignty. 

4.  Diocletian  took  for  himself  the  whole  of  Greece,  Egypt, 
and  Asia. 

The  Eoman  empire  was  thus  divided  into  four  kingdoms, 
which  were  in  some  respects  independent ;  yet,  as  Diocle- 
tian had  created  them,  and  appointed  their  sovereigns,  they 
were  all  in  a  degree  under  his  energetic  sway,  and  bound  to 
support  each  other  against  the  common  foe.  But  Rome  seemed 
to  have  filled  up  the  measure  of  its  iniquity.  No  human  sa- 
gacity could  avert  its  doom.  For  ages  she  had  been  gathering 
"  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath." 

Soon  the  savage  Britons  rose  in  arms.  German  tribes,  clad 
in  skins  and  swinging  gory  clubs,  blackened  the  banks  of  the 
Danube  and  the  Rhine.  The  wild  hordes  of  Africa,  from  the 
Nile  to  Mount  Atlas,  were  in  arms.  Moorish  nations,  issuing 
from  unknown  fastnesses,  crossed  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  and 
Bwept  like  the  sirocco  of  the  desert  over  the  Spanish  penin- 
sula; then,  gathering  upon  the  cliffs  of  the  Pyrenees,  they 
deecended  in  an  avalanche  of  destruction  upon  the  plains  of 


298  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

France.  The  Persian  hordes,  emerging  from  the  steppes  of 
Tar  ^ary  in  countless  bands,  wsre  roused  to  new  efforts  to  chas- 
tise Rome,  their  old  hereditary  enemy.  Thus  the  shouts  of 
war  reverberated  over  the  whole  of  the  then  known  world. 
All  its  fields  were  crimsoned  with  blood. 

There  were  four  royal  capitals.  Eome  was  abandoned  as 
the  metropolitan  centre.  Diocletian  was  still  the  ruling  spirit 
over  all  those  kingdoms  which  his  sagacity  had  formed.  He 
chose  for  his  own  capital  Nicomedia,  on  the  Asiatic  coast  of 
the  Sea  of  Marmora.  Though  he  spent  his  life  in  the  camp, 
he  endeavored  to  invest  his  capital  with  splendor  which  should 
outvie  all  the  ancient  glories  of  Rome. 

Diocletian  was  a  shrewd  man.  Being  aware  how  much  the 
maises  were  influenced  by  ou!;w2rd  show,  he  robed  himself  in 
garments  of  satin  and  gold.  Ho  wore  a  diadem  of  most  exqui- 
site pearls.  Even  his  shoes  were  studded  with  glittering  gems. 
All  who  approached  him  wero  compelled  to  prostrate  them- 
selves, and  address  him  with  the  titles  of  deity.  Gradually 
this  extraordinary  man  became  supreme  emperor.  The  other 
three  kings  were  crowded  into  the  position  of  merely  govern- 
ors of  subordinate  provinces. 

Diocletian  resolved  to  uphold  paganism,  and  consecrated  all 
the  energies  of  his  vigorous  mind  to  the  extirpation  of  Chris- 
tianity. We  need  not  enter  into  the  details  of  this  persecu- 
tion, its  scourgings  and  its  bloody  enormities :  such  details 
are  harrowing  to  the  soul.  We  have  already  given  examples 
euflicient  to  show  what  persecution  was  under  the  Roman 
emperors.  The  heroism  with  which  many  young  persons  of 
both  sexes  braved  death,  from  love  to  Christ,  is  ennobling  to 
humanity. 

A  decree  was  passed  ordering  every  soldier  in  the  army  to 
join  in  idolatrous  worship.  The  penalty  for  refusal  was  a  ter- 
rible scourging,  and  to  be  driven  from  the  ranks.  There  were 
many  Christian  soldiers  in  the  army.  With  wonderful  forti- 
tude they  met  their  fate. 

Diocletian  issued  a  decree  that  every  church  should  be 
burned,  that  every  copy  of  the  Scriptures  should  be  consigned 


INVASION.— CIVIL   WAR.— PERSECUTION.  299 

to  the  flames,  and  that  every  Christian,  of  whatever  rank,  sex, 
or  age,  should  be  tortured,  and  thus  compelled  to  renounce 
Christianity.  No  pen  can  describe  the  horrors  of  this  per- 
secution, the  dismay  with  which  it  crushed  all  Christian 
hearts,  or  the  fortitude  with  which  the  disciples  of  Jesus  bore 
the  scourgings,  fire,  and  death. 

We  might  fill  pages  with  narratives  of  individual  cases  of 
suffering  and  of  heroism.  How  little  do  we  in  this  nine- 
teenth century  appreciate  the  blessing  of  being  permitted  to 
worship  God  according  to  the  dictates  of  our  consciences, 
with  none  to  molest  or  make  afraid. 

While  Diocletian  was  thus  persecuting  the  Christians,  he 
was  also  struggling  with  almost  superhuman  energy  to  hold 
together  the  crumbling  elements  of  the  Roman  empire, 
assailed  at  every  point  by  the  barbarians.  Nations  die  slow- 
ly :  their  groans  are  deep,  their  convulsions  awful.  For 
several  centuries,  Kome  was  writhing  in  death's  agonies. 

In  the  twent^'-first  3ear  of  his  reign,  and  the  fifty-ninth  of 
his  age,  Diocletian,  enfeebled  by  sickness,  and  exhausted  by 
the  cares  of  empire,  resolved  to  abdicate  his  throne.  At  the 
same  time,  he  compelled  Maximian  to  abdicate  at  Milan.  It 
nras  his  design  to  re-organize  the  Roman  empire  into  two 
kingdoms,  instead  of  four.  This  was  the  origin  of  the  division 
of  the  Roman  world  into  the  Eastern  and  Western  empires. 
The  morning  sun  rose  upon  the  Oriental  realms  of  Galerius  : 
its  evening  rays  fell  upon  the  Occidental  kingdom  of  Con- 
stantius. 

The  ceremony  of  abdicating  the  empire  of  the  world  by 
Diocletian  was  very  imposing.  About  three  miles  from  the 
city  of  Nicomedia  there  is  a  spacious  plain,  which  was  selected 
for  the  pageant.  Upon  a  lofty  throne,  Diocletian,  pale  and 
emaciate,  announced  to  the  immense  multitude  assembled  his 
resignation  of  the  diadem.  Then,  laying  aside  his  imperial 
robes,  he  entered  a  closed  chariot,  and  repaired  to  a  rurul 
retreat  which  he  had  selected  at  Salona,  on  the  Grecian  shore 
of  the  Adriatic  Sea.     It  was  the  1st  of  May,  A,  D.  305. 

Accustomed  for  many  years  to  luxurj-,  he  surrounded  him- 


■'WO  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

self  in  a  magnificent  castle  with  the  highest  appliances  of 
wealth  and  grandeur.  With  the  eye  of  an  artist  he  had  se 
lected  the  spot.  From  the  portico  there  was  a  view  of  won- 
drous beauty.  The  wide  panorama  spread  out  before  him  an 
enchanting  landscape  of  the  cloud-capped  mountains  of  Greece, 
with  towering  Olympus,  the  blue  waters  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean, and  the  green,  luxuriant,  and  Eden-like  islands  of  the 
Adriatic. 

Ten  acres  were  covered  by  the  splendid  palace  he  had  here 
constructed.  It  was  built  of  freestone,  and  flanked  by  sixteen 
tow<^rs.  The  principal  entrance  was  appropriately  named 
"the  Grolden  Gate."  Gorgeous  temples  were  reared  in  honor 
cf  the  pagan  gods,  whom  Diocletian  ostentatiously  adored. 
The  ourrounding  grounds  were  embellished  in  the  highest  style 
of  1-iadscape-gardening.  The  saloons  and  banqueting-haUa 
were  filled  with  exquisite  paintings  and  statuary. 

But  even  hero,  in  the  most  lovely  retreat  which  nature  and 
art  could  create,  man's  doom  of  sorrow  pursued  the  emperor. 
The  keenest  of  domestic  griefs  pierced  his  heart,  darkening 
the  splendors  of  his  saloons,  and  blighting  the  flowers  of  his 
arbors  and  parterres. 

Bitterly  had  Diocletian  persecuted  the  Christians.  He  had 
made  every  efibrt  to  infuse  new  vigor  into  pagan  worship.  Was 
this  his  earthly  punishment  ?  We  know  not :  we  simply 
know  that  for  long  years  he  wandered  woe-stricken,  consumed 
by  remorse,  through  those  magnificent  saloons,  into  which  one 
ray  of  joy  never  penetrated.  The  dread  future  was  oe:':ora  him. 
Pagan  as  he  assumed  to  be,  he  had  no  faith  in  paganism :  he 
uphold  the  institution  rimply  us  a  means  of  overawing  the 
populace. 

There  is  a  marked  difference  between  Christianity  and  all 
forms  of  idolatry.  The  intellectual  men  of  olden  time  —  Cice- 
ro, Plato,  Ai-istotle  —  despised  the  popular  leligion :  they  re- 
garded it  merely  as  an  instrument  to  intimidate  the  ignorant 
masses. 

But,  with  Christianity,  the  ablest  men,  the  profoundest 
thinkers,  are  its  most  earnest  advocates.     The  presidents  of 


INVASION.— CIVIL   WAR— PERSECUTION.  301 

our  colleges,  the  most  prominent  men  at  the  bar,  the  most 
distinguished  of  our  statesmen,  our  ablest  scientific  men, 
our  most  heroic  generals,  are  men  who  revere  Christianity  ; 
who  seek  its  guidance  through  life,  and  its  support  in 
death. 

The  death  of  Diocletian  is  shrouded  in  mystery.  Some 
say  he  was  poisoned.  Some  affirm,  that,  tortured  by  re- 
morse, he  committed  suicide.  We  simply  know  that  he  died 
with  no  beam  of  hope  illuminating  the  gloom  of  his  dying- 
bed.  He  passed  awa}'  to  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ,  there 
to  answer  for  persecuting  Christ's  disciples  with  cruelty  never 
surpassed. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  the  world  at  the  commencement 
of  the  fourth  centur}'. 

In  the  first  century  of  the  Christian  era,  we  have  mainly  a 
series  of  execrable  emjterors,  who,  by  their  extravagance 
and  their  crimes,  were  sowing  the  seeds  for  the  dissolution 
of  the  empire. 

In  the  second  century,  Christianity  began  slowly  to  make 
itself  felt.  We  have  some  very  good  emperors,  but  with  no 
power  to  stem  the  torrent  of  corruption  at  full  flood.  One 
after  another  tlie\'  are  swept  away  by  poison  and  the  dagger. 
Corruption  rolls  on  in  resistless  surges.  Christianity,  earnest, 
active,  and  heroic,  then  in  its  infanc}',  could  do  very  little  to 
sta3'  such  billows  in  their  impetuous  career.  It  could  only 
work  upon  individual  hearts.  But  thus  it  gradually  spread 
its  life,  giving  leaven  through  the  mass. 

The  third  century  dawns  upon  us,  black  with  clouds  and 
storms.  Apocalyptic  vials  of  woe  are  emptied  upon  the 
world.  There  is  dread  among  the  nations.  Death  on  the 
pale  horse  stalks  through  Europe.  The  fetlocks  of  the  horse 
are  red  with  blood.  Rome,  the  Babylon  of  that  day,  drunk 
with  sensualit}'  and  oppression,  falls  in  convulsions, — shrieks 
and  struggles  and  dies.  It  was  needful  that  such  a  Rome, 
the  tyrant  and  oppressor  of  humanity,  should  die.  In  pro- 
phetic vision  we  can  see  this  Babylon  descending  to  the 
realms  of  woe  : — 


302  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

"  Hell  from  beneath  is  moved  for  thee  to  meet  thee  at  thy  coming : 
It  titirreth  up  the  dead  for  thee,  even  all  the  chief  ones  of  the  earth ; 
It  hath  raiced  up  from  their  thrones  all  the  kings  of  the  nations. 
All  they  shall  speak,  and  say  unto  thee, 

*  Alt  thou  also  become  weak  as  we  ?  art  thou  become  like  unto  us 
Thy  pomp  is  brought  down  to  the  grave,  and  the  noise  of  thy  viola : 
The  worm  is  spread  under  thee,  and  the  worms  cover  thee. 
How  art  thou  fallen  from  heaven,  O  Lucifer,  son  of  the  morning  ! 
How  art  thou  cut  down  to  the  ground,  which  didst  weaken  the  na- 
tions 1 ' "  1 

During  this  century,  Christianity  made  rapid  progress.  It 
is  alike  the  testimony  of  pagan  and  Christian  writers  that  this 
progress  is  mainly  to  be  attributed  to  the  zeal  of  the  Chris- 
tians, their  kindness  to  the  poor,  their  sympathy  with  the 
afflicted,  their  purity  of  morals^  and  their  fortitude  under  the 
severest  pangs  of  martyrdom. 

Notwithstanding  the  fiery  persecutions  with  which  pagan- 
ism with  all  its  energies  had  assailed  Christianity,  it  con- 
tinued steadily  to  multiply  its  converts  and  to  extend  its 
peaceful  conquests. 

i  IM.  ZiT.  »-u. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


CONSTANTINE. — THE    BANNER    OF   THE    CROSS    UNFUELKD. 


Helena,  the  Christian  EmpresB  --Constantine,  her  Son.  favurs  the  Christians.— 
Crumbling  of  the  ErapL'e.  —  Constantine  the  Christian,  and  Maxentius  the  Pa- 
gan. —  Vision  of  CoTistantine.  —  The  Unfurled  Cross.  —  Christianity  favored  bj 
the  Court.  — Licinius  in  the  East  defends  the  Christians.  —  Writings  of  Euse- 
bius.  —  Apostasy  of  Licinius. —  Cruel  Persecution. 


T  the  commencement  of  tlie  fourth  century,  Chris- 
tianity had  made,  such  rapid  progress,  that  there 
were  flourishing  churches  in  all  parts  of  the  Ro- 
man world,  and  spacious  temples  of  worship  in 
all  the  principal  cities.  Indeed,  in  about  one 
century  after  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ,  Justin 
Martyr  wrote,  — 
"  There  ezists  not  a  people,  whether  Greek  or  Barbarian,  or 
any  other  raca  of  men,  by  whatever  appellation  cr  manners 
they  may  be  distinguished,  however  ignorant  of  arts  or  agK' 
culture,  whether  they  dwell  under  tents  or  wander  about  in 
covered  wagons,  among  which  prayers  are  not  offered  up  in 
the  name  of  a  crucified  Jesus  to  the  Father  and  Creator  of  all 
things." 

Persecution  had  not  been  continuous,  but  spasmodical ;  at 
times  raging  like  a  tempest,  and  again  dying  away  into  a 
transient  calm.  If  any  thing  went  wrong,  pagan  superstition 
attributed  it  to  the  displeasure  of  the  idol  gods.  All  calami- 
ties were  considered  as  the  punishment  which  the  gods  were 
inflicting  upon  the  people  because  the  Christians  were  causing 


304  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

the  shrines  of  the  idols  to  be  deserted.  Tertullian,  an  earnest 
Christian  pastor  in  Carthage,  wrote,  — 

"  If  the  Tiber  overflowed  its  banks,  if  there  were  famine  or 
plague,  if  the  season  were  hot  or  dry  or  scorching,  what- 
ever public  calamity  happened,  the  universal  cry  of  the  popu- 
lace was,  *  To  the  lions  with  the  Christians  ! '  " 

When  Diocletian  abdicated,  he  compelled  Maximian  also  to 
abdicate,  and  then  divided  the  empire  into  halves,  placing  Ga- 
lerius  as  emperor  in  the  East,  and  Constantius  in  the  West. 
-Valerius  was  a  cruel,  proud,  fanatical  pagan,  who  hated  the 
Christians.  He  assailed  them  with  one  of  the  most  bloody 
persecutions  they  had  ever  experienced. 

Constantius  had  married  a  Christian  lady,  Helena.  Though 
not  himself  a  Christian,  he  was  so  far  influanced  by  his  pious 
wife  as  to  greatly  befriend  them.  In  fiftean  months  after  the 
enthronement  of  Constantius  over  the  Western  empire,  he 
died.  The  crown  descended  to  hia  son  Constantine,  then 
thirty-two  years  of  age.  This  was  in  the  year  30P.  Con- 
stantine "vas  not  a  Christian;  but  he  was  a  humane,  intel- 
ligent man,  who  revered  the  memory  of  his  pious  mother. 
His  father  Constantius,  like  Agrippa,  had  been  almost  a 
Christian.  Like  many  such  men  now,  he  had  great  respect 
for  religion.  There  were  many  Christians  who  were  inmat"^  3 
cf  the  palace.  He  even  appointed  Christians  as  chaplains, 
and  listene*!  to  their  daily  prayers  in  his  behalf.  All  through 
history,  we  see  traces  of  the  wonderful  power  of  a  truly  Chris- 
tian wife  and  mother. 

Helena,  the  mother  of  Constantine,  was  so  consistent  in  her 
Christian  character,  that  her  family  were  constrained  to  recog- 
nize her  superiority,  and  to  admire  her  spirit.  It  was  doubt- 
less her  example  which  mainly  influenced  her  illustrious  son 
to  embrace  the  gospel.  Through  her  long  life  she  was  the  mu- 
nificent friend  of  the  Christians,' — travelling  from  place  to 
place  to  aid  them  with  her  money  and  her  personal  influence. 
She  died  at  the  age  of  eighty  years,  a  true  mother  in  Israel.  In 
the  palace,  as  in  the  cottage,  maternal  piety  has  been  one  of 
the  greatest  blessings  of  earth. 


-^ 


K<HU??7.-   ^7^^(^-i 


V 


^<^ 


CONSTANTINE.  —  TEE  BAJ^NER   OF  THE   CROSS.      306 

Nothing  now  could  arrest  the  dissolution  of  the  old  Koman 
irorld,  crumbling  beneath  the  weight  of  its  own  corruptions. 
The  dogs  of  war  were  soon  unleashed.  Rival  emperors  again 
appeared.  While  Constantine  was  in  Britain,  a  general  by  the 
name  of  Maxentius  raised  the  standard  of  revolt  against  him 
in  Italy.  At  the  head  of  an  army  of  a  hundred  and  eighty 
thousand  foot,  and  eighteen  thousand  horse,  he  bade  defiance  to 
Constantine. 

The  emperor,  roased  to  the  highest  pitch  of  indignation,  im- 
petuously crossed  the  British  Channel,  traversed  Gaul,  sur- 
mounted the  Alps  by  the  pass  of  Mont  Cenis,  and  descended 
into  the  plains  of  Piedmont.  He  was  within  four  hundred 
miles  of  Rome  before  Maxentius  was  aware  that  he  had 
crossed  the  British  Channel.  In  accordance  with  the  barbaric 
customs  of  the  times,  Constantine,  as  he  approached  Rome, 
ravaged  the  States  which  had  sympathized  in  the  revolt  of 
Maxentius,  and  made  slaves  of  all  the  people.  The  number 
of  captives  so  increased,  that  hundreds  of  smiths  were  constant- 
ly employed  in  hammering  the  swords  of  Lhe  vanquished  into 
fetters. 

Maxentius  ws'-s  an  inveterate  pagan.  In  preparing  for  the 
conflict  with  Constantine,  he  had  suppl-'^ated  the  aid  of  the 
Roman  gods  by  the  most  gorgeous  ceremonies  and  the  most 
costly  sacrifices.  This  led  Constantine  to  feel  that  he  must 
appeal  to  the  God  of  the  Christians  for  support.  The  follow- 
ing remarkable  narrative  is  recorded  by  contemporary  writers  as 
given  by  Constantine  himself. 

Just  before  the  final  battle,  Constantine  was  earnestly  pray- 
ing in  hia  tent  to  that  God  whom  his  mother  had  revealed  to 
him.  While  engaged  in  this  act  of  devotion,  he  observed  a 
remarkable  appearance  in  the  heavens  ;  when  there  emerged, 
in  wonderful  distinctness  and  efi"ulgence,  a  cross  with  this  in- 
scription, —  "In  hoc  vinces  "  ("  By  this  thou  shalt  conquer "). 
The  miraculous  apparition  was  seen  by  the  whole  army. 

While  Constantine  was  pondering  the  significance  of  thia 
sign,  night  came  on.     In  a  dream,  Christ  appeared  to  the  em- 
peror with  the  same  cross  which  he  had  seen  in  the  heavens, 
so 


306  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY; 

»nd  directed  him  to  cause  a  banner  to  be  made  after  that  pat- 
tern, and,  beneath  that  banner,  to  lead  his  armies  to  victory 
over  their  pagan  foes. 

However  we  may  explain  this  event,  whether  we  regard  it 
a3  a  miracle,  or  as  the  effect  of  the  excited  imagination  of  the 
«mperor,  this  seems  to  be  certain,  —  that  Constantine  himself 
laade  repeated  and  solemn  declarations  that  he  had  seen  this 
vision.  He  certainly  did  raise  the  banner  of  the  cross,  —  the 
first  time  that  banner  was  ever  raised  over  his  army.  He 
taught  his  troops,  pagans  as  most  of  them  were,  to  seek  the 
aid  of  the  God  of  the  Christians. 

Eusebius,  pastor  of  the  church  at  Nicomedia,  one  of  the 
most  eloquent  preachers  and  able  writers  of  the  age,  records 
that  he  had  this  story  of  the  miraculous  appearance  of  the 
cross  from  the  emperor  himself;  and  that  the  emperor,  con- 
scious of  the  great  importance  of  the  statement,  substantiated 
the  narrative  by  the  solemnity  of  an  oath.  Constantine  could 
have  had  no  motive  to  perjure  himself;  neither  was  puch  a 
/;rime  in  accordance  with  his  character. 

Constantine,  much  excited  by  the  dream  of  the  night,  which 
enforced  the  remarkable  vision  of  the  day,  rose  with  the  ear- 
liest dawn,  summoned  his  principal  officera  into  his  presence, 
and  inform  3d  them  of  the  standard  which  he  wished  to  have 
immediately  constructed. 

A  slender  cross  was  then  made,  —  a  long  pike-staff  being 
traversed  by  a  cross-bar.  This  was  gilded,  and  incrusted  with 
the  most  precious  gems.  A  crown  of  gold  and  diamonds  sur- 
mounted the  staff.  To  this  there  was  attached  a  small  silken 
banner,  richly  embroidered  with  gold  and  jewels,  and  containing 
the  monogram  of  Christ.  Above  and  beneath  this  silken 
standard  were  images  in  gold  of  the  emperor  and  his  children. 
In  addition  to  this  imperial  banner  which  rose  over  the  tent 
of  the  emperor,  there  were  other  similar  banners  on  a  smaller 
scale  constructed,  one  for  each  division  of  the  army.  The  em- 
peror had  also  imprinted  upon  his  helmet  an  image  of  the  cross, 
and  one  also  upon  the  shield  of  every  soldier.  He  summoned 
several  bishops,  or  pastors,  to  his  presence,  that  they  migh^ 


CONSTANTINE.  —  THE  BANNER   OF  THE  CROSS.     307 

instruct  him  respecting  the  character  of  Jesus,  h^o  mission  ana 
his  career.  He  obtained  copies  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures,  and 
read  them  with  great  care.'^ 

The  28th  of  October  of  the  year  312  had  arrived.  Constan- 
tine  had  with  him  but  forty  thousand  troops ;  but  they  were 
veterans,  and  were  inspired  with  the  utmost  confidence  in 
their  leader,  who  was  one  of  the  ablest  of  generals.  When 
within  nine  miles  of  Rome,  the  emperor  encountered  the 
army  of  Maxentius  strongly  intrenched.  A  terrible  battle 
ensued,  and  Maxentius  was  utterly  routed  with  awful  slaugh- 
ter. In  endeavoring  to  escape  across  the  Tiber  by  the  Mil- 
vian  Bridge,  he  was  crowded  by  the  fugitives  into  the  river. 
From  the  weight  of  his  armor,  he  sank  like  lead.  The  next 
day  his  body  was  dragged  from  the  mud ;  and  the  soldiers,  hav- 
ing cut  off  his  head,  paraded  it  on  a  pole  while  Constantine 
entered  Rome  in  triumph. 

Maxentius  had  been  terribly  cruel.  Even  while  the  battle 
had  been  raging  outside  the  walls,  a  mutiny  had  been  excited 
against  him  in  Rome.  The  senate,  and  aU  the  people,  and 
even  the  routed  soldiers  of  Maxentius,  leceived  the  conqueror 
with  great  enthusiasm.  An  arch  of  triumph  was  reared  to 
his  honor,  which  remains  with  its  costly  ornaments  and  flatter- 
ing inscription  to  the  present  day.  A  statue  of  Constantine 
is  placed  in  one  of  the  public  squares  of  Rome,  with  a  cross 
instead  of  a  lance  in  liis  hand. 

Licinius  was  emperor  in  the  East.  Constantine  negotiated 
a  matrimonial  alliance  between  his  sister  Constantia  and 
Licinius.  The  nuptials  were  celebrated  in  Rome.  The  em- 
peror easily  influenced  Licinius  to  co-operate  with  him  in  issu- 
ing the  following  decree  from  the  city  of  Milan  :  — 

"  I,  Constantine  the  august,  and  I,  Licinius  the  august, 
desirous  of  promoting  in  every  way  the  public  peace  and  pros- 
perity, have  deemed  it  one  of  our  first  duties  to  regulate  the 
worship  of  Deity.  We  do  therefore  grant  to  Christians  and 
all  others  the  liberty  to  embrace  such  religion  as  each  one  may 
thoose,  that  we  may  draw  down  the  favor  of  Heaven  upon  us  and 

1  Histoire  du  Christlanlsme,  par  I'Abbi  Fleury. 


308  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

upon  our  subjects.  We  have  resolved  not  to  deny  to  any  one 
4be  liberty  to  embrace  the  Christian  faith,  or  any  religion 
which  to  him  may  seem  best." 

All  over  the  empire  the  officers  of  government  were  ordered 
no  longer  to  molest  the  Christians,  but  to  protect  them.  The 
property  which  had  been  wrested  from  them  was  restored; 
their  places  of  worship,  which  had  been  closed,  were  re-opened ; 
and  ihey  were  rendered  eligible  to  all  the  offices  of  honor  and 
amomment  in  the  empire. 

Licinius  had  established  his  capital  at  Constantinople,  then 
called  Byzantium.  While  he  was  absent  at  Rome  to  obtain 
his  bride,  Maximian  in  Asia  crossed  the  Bosphorus  with  a 
powerful  army  in  the  depth  of  winter,  and,  after  a  siege  of 
eleven  days,  captured  Byzantium.  Licinius,  at  the  head  of 
seventy  thousand  troops,  marched  to  regain  his  capital.  The 
two  armies  met  about  fifty  miles  west  of  the  city.  Maximian 
made  a  solemn  vow  to  Jupiter,  that,  if  he  would  give  him  the 
victory,  he  would  put  every  Christian  man,  woman,  and  child 
within  kis  domains  to  death,  and  thus  extirpate  the  Christian 
name. 

The  night  before  the  decisive  battle,  Licinius  dreamed  that 
an  angel  appeared  to  him,  and  called  upon  him  immediately 
to  arise,  and  to  pray  with  his  whole  army  to  the  supreme  God, 
j)romising  him  the  victory  if  he  should  do  so.  The  angel  also 
dictated  to  him  the  form  of  the  prayer  which  he  was  to  offer. 

Licinius,  awaking,  immediately  called  for  a  secretary,  and 
directed  him  to  write  down  the  words  of  the  prayer  which 
had  been  uttered  by  the  angel.     They  were  as  follows :  — 

"  Great  God,  we  pray  to  thee.  Holy  God,  we  pray  to  thee. 
To  thee  we  commend  all  justice.  To  thee  we  commend  our 
safety.  To  thee  we  commend  our  subjects.  To  thee  we  com- 
mend our  empire.  It  is  through  thee  we  live.  It  is  through 
thee  alone  that  we  can  be  victorious  or  happy.  Great  and  holy 
God,  listen  to  our  prayers.  We  reach  forth  our  arms  to  thee. 
Great  and  holy  God,  grant  our  prayer." 

Many  copies  of  this  prayer  were  taken,  and  distributed  to 
the  officers,  so  that  every  soldier  might  learn  and  repeat  it. 


con UTAN TINE.  —  THE  BANNER  OF  THE  CROSS.      309 

The  zaal  of  the  army,  and  its  confidence  in  victory,  were  thus 
greatly  augmented. 

The  battle  took  place  on  the  first  day  of  May,  in.  the  year 
313.  The  two  hosts  met  upon  a  wild  and  barren  plain  called 
Champssrain.  The  soldiers  of  Licinius,  upon  a  given  signal, 
threw  down  their  shields,  uncovered  their  heads,  and,  raising 
their  arms  to  the  skies,  repeated  simultaneously  the  prayer 
which  all  had  learned.  Three  times  the  prayer  was  repeated, 
the  emperor  and  all  the  officers  joining  in  the  supplication. 

The  hostile  army,  drawn  up  at  a  little  distance,  heard  with 
astonishment  the  confused  noise  of  their  voices,  like  the  rush 
of  many  waters. 

The  soldiers  of  Licinius  replaced  their  helmets  and  shields. 
The  war-trumpet  sounded ;  and  with  waving  banners,  and 
shouts  of  onset,  the  two  armies  rushed  at  each  other.  The 
slaughter  of  the  army  of  Maximian  was  such  as  had  scarcely 
ever  been  seen  before.  The  soldiers  of  Licinius  seemed  en- 
dued with  supernatural  strength.  They  struck  down  the 
opposing  ranks  as  the  mower  sweeps  the  grass  with  the  scythe. 
Maximian,  terror-stricken,  threw  aside  his  purple  robes,  and, 
dressing  himself  in  the  clothes  of  a  slave,  escaped  across  the 
strait.  He  fled  with  such  precipitation,  that  in  twenty-four 
hours  he  entered  Nicomedia,  a  hundred  and  sixty  miles  from 
the  battle-field.  There  he  soon  died,  tortured  by  misery, 
pain,  and  remorse,  after  having  in  vain  endeavored  to  kill 
himself. 

Constantine  now  joined  Licinius ;  and  they  re-issued  in  the 
East  the  same  decree  in  favor  of  the  Christians  which  they 
had  already  published  in  the  West.  Constantine  even  en- 
treated the  Christians  to  rebuild  their  churches.  Thus  won- 
derfully was  persecution  brought  to  an  end.  The  Christians 
were  astonished  at  these  marvels  of  divine  power.  They  were 
inspired  with  new  energies.  Large  and  beautiful  churches 
rose  upon  the  ruins  of  those  which  had  been  destroyed.  The 
people,  influenced  by  the  imperial  decree,  crowded  the  churches. 

The  emperor  wrote  letters  in  favor  of  the  Christians ;  invited 
the  pastors  to  his  table,  and  treated  them  with  great  distinc- 


310  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

tion.  He  contributed  liberally  to  the  building  sjid  the  orna- 
mentation of  the  churches.  The  widows  and  orphans  of  the 
martyrs  were  regarded  with  especial  favor.  He  gave  dowries 
to  the  young  girls,  and  married  them  to  wealthy  and  distin- 
guished men. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Eusebius,  Bishop  of  Caesarea,  the 
most  learned  man  of  his  age,  wrote  his  celebrated  defence 
of  Christianity,  entitled  "Demonstratio  Evangelica."  In  it  he 
showed  that  the  law  of  Moses  was  intended  for  a  single  peo- 
ple, occupying  a  limited  territory ;  and  that  it  was  by  no 
means  applicable  to  the  whole  world ;  but  that  this  law  of 
Moses  invited  the  world  to  a  new  alliance,  which  was  to  be 
formed  of  all  peoples,  under  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  He 
argued  the  vast  superiority  of  Christ  to  Moses ;  declaring  that 
the  purity  of  his  life  proved  that  ho  was  not  an  impostor,  and 
that  his  miracles  proved  that  he  was  not  a  mere  man.  He 
showed  that  no  man  could  doubt  the  reality  of  these  miracles, 
when  one  considered  the  simplicity  of  the  disciples,  their  good 
faith,  their  disinterestedness,  their  perseverance  even  unto 
death,  and  the  impossibility  of  imagining  any  motive  they 
could  have  had  to  deceive  the  world. 

He  showed  clearly  that  the  Christians  had  not  received  the 
religion  of  Jesus  through  a  blind  faith  and  a  rash  credulity ; 
but  that,  after  serious  examination,  they  were  fully  persuaded 
by  substantial  reasons,  and  were  influenced  by  a  well-founded 
judgment,  to  abandon  the  paganism  in  which  they  had  been 
educated,  and  to  embrace  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  Euse- 
bius also  wrote  a  history  of  the  Church,  from  the  birth  of 
Christ  to  that  time.  These  works  of  this  distinguished  ma^ 
have  been  invaluable  to  succeeding  generations. 

A  nominal  Christian  emperor  was  now  upon  the  thrure  at 
Rome.  Paganism  had  received  its  death-blow.  But  a  system 
the  growth  of  centuries,  interwoven  into  poetry,  eloquence, 
statuary,  and  all  the  manners  and  customs  of  life,  could  not 
die  easily.  It  lingered  still  for  ages  in  its  dying  struggles, 
and  made  several  convulsive  efforts  to  obtain  a  new  lease  of 
life. 


CONSTANTINE.  —  THE  BANNER  OF  THE  CROSS.     31l 

But  the  conversion  of  Constantine,  a  Roman  emperor,  to 
Christianity,  was  one  of  the  most  important  events  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  Christian  Church.  It  invested  the  new  religion, 
in  the  eyes  of  the  ^community,  with  dignity.  It  emboldened 
the  timid,  and  inspired  the  resolute  with  new  zeal.  The  pa- 
gans complained  that  nearly  all  were  forsaking  the  worship  of 
the  gods,  and  joining  themselves  to  the  Christian  party. 

Constantine  manifestsd  a  noble  spirit  of  toleration.  He 
made  no  attempt  to  suppress  the  rites  of  paganism  by  force. 
"  Those,"  he  said  in  one  of  his  edicts,  "  who  are  desirous  of 
continuing  slaves  to  the  ancient  superstition,  have  perfect  lib- 
erty for  the  public  exercise -of  their  worship." 

Yery  resolutely  he  protected  the  Christians  from  outrage. 
Ss^eral  Jews  became  converts  to  Christianity.  The  Jews 
persecuted  them  with  vituperation  and  abuse.  The  emperor 
issued  a  decree,  that  any  persons  who  should  in  future  be 
guilty  of  a  similar  crime  should  be  burned  at  the  stake. 

The  Roman  world  was  now,  as  we  have  mentioned,  divided 
into  two  portions ;  and  there  were  two  emperors,  —  Constantine 
in  the  west,  and  Licinius  in  the  east.  Gradually  rivalry  sprang 
up  between  them.  As  Constantine  had  embraced  Christianity, 
Licinius  decided  to  rally  to  his  support  all  the  energies  of  pa- 
ganism. He  first  caused  gross  slanders  to  be  circulated  against 
the  Christian  pastors. 

He  then  forbade  them  to  enter  any  house  of  the  pagans, 
lest  they  should  convert  them.  Next  he  forbade  their  hold- 
ing any  councils,  or  visiting  each  other's  churches.  Growing 
more  and  more  zealous  in  his  persecution,  he  banished  all 
Christians  from  his  palace,  sending  several  into  exile,  confiscat- 
ing their  property,  and  threatening  them  with  death. 

He  forbade  all  women  from  meeting  in  the  same  assemblies 
or  churches  with  the  men,  or  from  listening  to  any  prayers  or 
religious  teachings  from  men.  Finally  he  forbade  the  Chris- 
tians from  holding  any  religious  meetings  whatever  in  the 
cities :  they  were  allowed  to  meet  only  in  the  open  air  in  the 
country,  the  emperor  saying  mockingly,  "  that  the  open  air  of 
the  fields  was  more  healthy  than  the  confined  air  of  a  room." 


512  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Wten  one  enters  upon  a  career  of  wickedness,  he  invariably 
presses  on  with  ever-increasing  impetuosity.  Licinius  now  is- 
sued a  decree,  that  every  man  in  governmental  employ  should 
offer  sacrifices  to  the  pagan  gods.  The  •wrath  of  Liciniua 
was  directed  mainly  against  the  bishops,  or  pastors,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  affection  which  they  manifested  for  Constan- 
tine.  Many  churches  were  torn  down ;  others  were  shut 
up.  Several  bishops  were  put  to  death  :  their  bodies,  cut  into 
small  fragments,  were  thrown  into  the  water  as  food  for  fishes. 
The  Christians  in  dismay  began  to  fly  from  the  cities  and  vil- 
lages, and  to  seek  refuge  among  the  mountains. 

In  the  city  of  Sebaste,  in  Armenia,  there  were  in  one  of  the 
regiments  forty  young  men  who  were  Christians.  The  govern- 
or, Agricola,  ordered  them  to  sacrifice  to  the  idols.  Unitedly 
and  firmly  they  refused.  The  governor,  having  exhausted  the 
power  of  promises  and  menaces,  devised  a  new  form  of  torture 
and  death. 

It  was  a  cold  climate,  and  mid-winter.  In  a  night  of  freez- 
ing wind  and  bitter  cold,  these  forty  young  men  were  exposed, 
with  no  clothing,  upon  a  high  scaffold  swept  by  the  wintry 
blast.  By  the  side  of  the  scaffold  was  a  room,  in  which  were 
glowing  fires,  ample  clothing,  and  a  warm  bath.  Any  one 
who  would  renounce  Christ  might  descend  from  the  scaffold, 
and  immediately  enjoy  all  the  comforts  which  warmth  and 
clpthing  could  give. 

The  young  men  encouraged  each  other,  saying,  that,  after  a 
few  hours  of  suffering,  they  would  all  meet  in  a  happy,  heavenly 
home.  One  only  of  the  number  failed :  in  the  intensity  of  his 
anguish  he  denied  Christ,  descended  from  the  scaffold,  and 
plunged  into  a  warm  bath,  where  he  instantly  died.  One  of  the 
attendants  in  charge  of  the  baths  was  so  moved  by  this,  that 
he  immediately  declared  himself  a  Christian,  and,  divesting  him- 
self of  his  clothing,  took  his  place  upon  the  scaffold,  by  the  side  of 
the  freezing  disciples.  The  morning  came.  They  were  all  nearly 
dead,  with  their  extremities  badly  frozen.  A  huge  funeral-pyre 
was  erected:  the  still-breathing  bodies  were  placed  upon  it;  ths 
*orch  was  applied,  and  their  bodies  were  burned  to  ashe<» 


CONSTANTINE.  —  THE  BANNER  OF  THE  CROSS.     313 

One  of  the  young  men,  of  vigorous  constitution,  had  not 
suffered  so  much  as  the  rest  from  the  cold.  The  executioners 
tried  to  persuade  him  to  recant,  and  to  save  himself  from  the 
fire.  His  Christian  mother  stood  by.  Nerved  by  that  sublime 
faith  which  seemed  to  inspire  the  early  Christians  in  those 
days  of  martyrdom,  she  said,  — 

"  Go,  my  sou,  and  finish  with  your  comrades  this  short 
journey,  that  you  may  not  be  one  of  the  last  to  appear  in  the 
presence  of  your  God." 

In  the  mean  time,  Constantine  was  more  and  more  favoring 
the  Christians.  He  issued  edicts  recommending  the  univer 
sal  observance  of  the  Lord's  day ;  he  abolished  all  those  laws 
which  forbade  Christians  when  dying  to  bequeath  their  prop- 
erty to  the  Church  ;  and  he  forbade  the  cross  from  ever  agaio 
being  used  as  an  instrument  of  punishment. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE    CONVERSION    OF    CONSTANTINE. 


•he  Arian  Controversy,  —  Sanguinary  Conflict  between  Paganism  and  Christian 
Ity.  —  Founding  of  Constantinople.  —  Tlie  Council  of  Nice.  —  Its  Decision.  — 
Duplicity  of  some  of  the  Ariana.  — The  Nicene  Creed.  —  Tragic  Scene  Id  the 
Life  of  Constantine.  —  His  Penitence  and  true  Conversion.  —  His  Baptism,  and 
Reception  into  the  Church.  —  Charles  V.  —  The  Emperor  Napoleon  I. 


"T)   /^^iiip^HE  Arian  controversy,  which  subsequently  so 
^Tp /^  <C    distracted   the  Church,  commenced  about  this 
■"^  time,  —  A.  D.  318.     Arias,  a  pastor  of  Alexan- 

dria, introduced  the  doctrine,  that  the  Son  was 
not  equal  to  the  Es.ther ;  that  he  was  created  by 
him,  and  that  there  consequently  was  a  time 
when  the  Son  did  not  exist. 
This  denial  of  the  divinity  of  Christ,  and  consequently  of  th« 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  involved,  as  it  was  deemed,  the  neces- 
eary  denial  of  the  stone  which  was  regarded  as  the  fundamental 
doctrine  of  Christianity,  —  the  corner-stone  upon  which  the 
whole  edifice  of  the  salvation  of  sinners  was  reared.  The  con- 
troversy greatly  agitated  the  Church  for  ages,  is.iid  has  not  fully 
subsided  even  to  the  present  day. 

As  Constantine  had  embraced  the  cause  of  the  Christiana, 
and  Licinius  that  of  the  pagan  party,  it  is  not  strange  that 
the  two  emperors  should  soon  find  themselves  arrayed  in  arms 
against  each  other.  On  the  13th  of  July,  324,  the  two  armies 
of  the  rival  emperors  met  near  Adrianople.^     Licinius  had  a 

'  Histolre  du  Christianisme,  par  l'Abb6  Fleury,  1. 1,  p.  432. 
31i 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  CONSTANTINE.  315 

hundred  and  fifty  thousand  infantry  and  fifteen  thousand  cav- 
alry :  Constantine  had  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  in- 
fantry and  ten  thousand  cavalry.  It  was  clearly  understood 
on  both  sides  that  it  was  a  battle  between  the  two  religions,  aa 
in  olden  time  between  God  and  Baal. 

Constantine  took  with  him  as  chaplains  several  Christian, 
bishops.  The  banner  of  the  cross,  like  the  ancient  ark  of  the 
covenant,  was  very  conspicuously  borne  before  the  troops. 
Constantine  set  apart  the  day  before  the  battle  for  a  season 
of  fasting  and  prayer  with  his  whole  army. 

Lieinius  gathered  around  him  the  magicians  of  Egypt  and 
the  idolatrous  priests.  The  most  imposing  sacrifices  were  of- 
fered to  the  pagan  gods.  He  assembled  all  his  officers  in  a 
grove  fiUed  with  idols,  and  thus  addressed  them  :  — 

"  Behold,  my  friends,  the  gods  of  our  fathers,  whom  we  honor 
as  we  have  been  taught  to  do  by  them !  Our  adversary  ha?; 
abandoned  them  for  I  know  not  what  strange  God,  whose  in- 
famous standard  profanes  his  army.  This  battle  will  decide 
which  of  us  is  in  error. 

"  Should  the  strange  God  of  Constantine,  whom  we  deride, 
give  him  the  victory,  notwithstanding  our  superiority  in  num- 
bers, we  shall  be  compelled  to  recognize  him.  If,  on  the  con- 
trary, our  gods  should  give  us  the  victory,  —  of  which  there 
can  be  no  doubt,  —  we  will  utterly  exterminate  those  wretches 
who  have  rejected  them." 

Eusebius  records  this  speech,  saying  that  he  received  it  from 
the  lips  of  those  who  heard  it.^ 

The  battle  raged  fiercely  from  dawn  till  dark.  In  the  night 
Lieinius  fled,  leaving  twenty  thousand  of  his  soldiers  dead 
upon  the  field,  and  abandoning  his  camp  and  aU  his  magazines. 
Gathering  recruits  as  he  retreated,  he  made  another  stand  on 
the  plains  of  Thrace.  Constantine,  wlio  had  vigorously  pursued, 
again  attacked  him,  and  nearly  annihilated  his  army.  From  a 
force  of  a  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  men,  scarcely  thre& 
thousand  escaped.  Lieinius  fled  to  the  mountains  of  Mace- 
donia, and  sued  for  peace.     Constantine,  out  of  regard  to  his 

>  Eu8ebiu8,  Vit.  11,  c.  34. 


316  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

sister  Constantia,  treated  his  brotlier-in-iaw  generously.  He, 
however,  wrested  from  him  nearly  all  his  domains  in  Europe, 
leaving  him  sovereign  only  in  Asia  and  Egypt. 

Eight  years  of  comparative  tranquillity  passed  away,  when 
the  two  emperors  again  found  themselves  in  arms  against  each 
other.  Licinias,  though  an  infirm  old  man,  displayed  on  the 
occasion  amazing  energy.  He  assembled  on  the  fields  of 
Thraco  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  infantry  and  fifteen 
thousand  horse.  The  Bosphorus  and  the  Hellespont  were 
crowded  with  his  fleet  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  galleys,  with 
three  hanks  of  oars.  Constantine  met  them  with  a  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  horse  and  foot  and  two  hundred  trans- 
ports. There  was  another  of  those  awful  scenes  of  blood  and 
woe  called  a  battle.  How  faintly  can  imagination  picture  the 
scene!  —  two  hundred  and  eighty-five  thousand  men  hurling 
ihemselves  against  each  other  in  the  most  desperate  hand-to- 
iiand  fight ;  the  cry  of  onset,  tho  clangor  of  weapons,  the  shrieka 
of  death.  In  a  few  hours,  thirty  thousand  of  the  troops  of 
Licinius  were  dead  in  their  blood.  The  monarch  himself,  with 
the  disordered  remainder  of  his  troops,  fled  wildly  to  Byzan- 
tium. 

There  was  a  long  and  cruel  siege.  Constantine  was  victori- 
ous :  the  world  was  again  under  one  monarch,  and  he  a  nominal 
Christian.  This  extraordinary  man  issued  a  decree  to  his  sub- 
jects, especially  to  those  of  his  newly-conquered  Eastern  empire, 
assuring  them  of  his  conviction  that  the  God  of  the  Christians, 
the  true  and  Almighty  God,  had  given  him  the  victory  over 
the  powers  of  paganism,  in  order  that  the  worship  of  the  true 
Ctod  might  be  universally  diffused.  He  also  issued  the  follow- 
ing prayer : — 

''  I  invoke  thy  blessing,  0  Supreme  God !  Be  gracious  to  all 
thy  citizens  of  the  Eastern  provinces ;  bestow  on  them  salvation 
through  me,  thy  servant.  And  well  may  I  ask  this  of  the  Lord 
01  the  universe,  Holy  God ;  for  by  the  guidance  of  thy  hand 
have  I  undertaken  and  accomplished  salutary  things.  Thy 
banner,  the  cross,  everywhere  precedes  my  armies :  whenever 
I  advance  against  the  enemy,  I  follow  the  cross,  the  symbol 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  OONSTANTINE.  317 

of  thy  power.  Hence  I  consecrate  to  tliee  my  soul  imbued 
with  love  and  fear.  Sincerely  I  love  thy  name  ;  and  I  venerate 
thy  power,  which  thou  hast  revealed  to  me  by  so  many  proofs, 
and  by  which  thou  hast  confirmed  my  faith." 

This  would  be  deemed  extraordinary  language  to  appear  in 
the  proclamation  of  any,  even  of  the  most  Christian  monarch  of 
the  present  day.  How  much  more  remarkable  must  it  have 
seemed  coming  from  a  Roman  emperor  just  emerging  from 
paganism,  and  addressed  to  the  whole  Koman  world ! 

It  was  the  wish  of  Constantine  that  Christianity  might  be 
the  recognized  religion  of  the  empire,  and  that  all  his  subjects 
might  be  united  in  the  worship  of  the  one  true  God.  Still  he 
favored  perfect  toleration.  Yet  Christianity  was  every  way 
pncouraged.  Distinguished  Christians  were  placed  in  the 
highest  offices  of  state.  Chaplains  were  appointed  in  the  army. 
Though  no  compulsion  was  exercised,  all  the  soldiers  were  in- 
vited and  encouraged  to  attend  public  worship. 

The  city  of  Rome  for  a  long  time  had  ceased  to  be  the  only 
capital ;  and.  Constantine  chose,  with  great  sagacity,  Byzan- 
tium, at  the  mouth  of  the  Bosphorus,  as  the  new  capital™  giving 
it  the  name  of  Constantinople,  after  himself.  This  imperial 
city  enjoyed  &  very  salubrious  clime,  and  occupied  a  position, 
for  the  accumulation  oi  wealth  and  the  exercise  of  power,  un- 
surpassed by  that  of  any  other  spot  upon  the  globe.  It  was  sit- 
uated upon  an  eminence  which  commanded  an  extensive  view 
of  the  shores  of  Europe  and  Asia,  with  the  beautiful  Straits  of 
the  Bosphorus  flowing  down  from  the  Black  Sea  on  the  north, 
emptying  into  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  and  thence  descending 
through  the  Dardanelles,  or  Hellespont,  to  the  Mediterranean 
on  the  south.  These  were  avenues  of  approach  through  which 
no  foe  could  penetrate.  The  city  was  favored  with  a  harbor, 
called  the  Golden  Horn,  spacious  and  secure.  The  site  of  Con- 
stantinople seems  to  have  been  designed  by  Nature  for  the 
metropolis  of  universal  European  dominion. 

The  wealth,  energy,  and  artistic  genius  of  the  whole  Roman 
empire  were  immediately  called  into  requisition  to  enlarge  and 
beautify  the  new  metropolis.     The  boundaries  of  the  city  were 


318  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

marked  out  fourteen  miles  in  circumference.  Almost  incredi- 
ble sums  of  money  were  expended  in  rearing  the  city  walls,  and 
in  works  of  public  utility  and  beauty.  The  forests  which  then 
Crowned  unbroken  along  the  shores  of  i;he  Euxine  Sea  afforded 
an  inexhaustible  supply  of  timber  A  quarry  of  white  marble, 
easily  accessible,  upon  a  neighboring  island,  furnished  any 
desired  amount  of  tliat  important  building-material. 

The  imperial  palace  soon  rose  in  splendor  which  Rome  had 
never  surpassed.  With  its  courts,  gardens,  porticoes,  and  bathe, 
1:  covered  several  acres.  The  ancient  cities  of  the  empire,, 
including  Rome  itself,  were  despoiled  of  their  noble  fami- 
lies, who  were  persuaded  to  remove  to  the  new  metropolis  to 
add  lustre  to  its  society.  Magnificent  mansions  were  reared 
for  them.  The  revenues  of  wide  domains  were  assigned  for 
the  support  of  thair  dignity.  Thus  the  splendors  of  decaying 
Rome  upon  the  Tiber  were  eclipsed  by  the  rising  towers  of 
Constantinople  upon  the  iJosphorus. 

Few  men  have  been  more  warmly  applauded,  or  more  bitterly 
condemned,  ttian  Constantine.  Fifteen  centuries  have  passed 
away  since  his  death,  and  still  he  is  the  subject  of  the  most 
venomous  denunciation  and  the  most  impassioned  praise.  He 
was  in  person  tall,  graceful,  majestic^  -with  features  of  the 
finest  mould.  Intellectually  he  was  also  highly  endowed. 
None  of  the  ordinary  vices  of  the  timos  stained  his  character. 
Conscious  of  hio  superior  abilities,  and  sustained  by  the  popu- 
lar voice,  he  pursued  a  career  to  which  we  find  no  parallels  in 
history. 

The  Arian  controversy  was  now  greatly  agitating  the  Church. 
The  emperor,  having  in  vain  endeavored  to  quiet  it  by  a  letter, 
decided  to  call  an  ecumenical  council ;  that  is,  a  general  coun- 
cil of  bishops  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  It  was  a  measure 
then  without  an  example. 

The  city  of  Nice,  one  of  the  principal  cities  of  Bythinia, 
was  selected  for  the  assembly.  Three  hundred  and  eighteen 
bishops  met,  besides  a  large  number  of  subordinate  ecclesias- 
tics. The  emperor  defrayed  the  necessary  expenses  of  the 
members  of  the  council.     The  session  was  opened  on  the  19th 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  CONSTANTINE.  319 

©f  June,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  325.  The  meeting  was  held 
in  the  large  saloon  of  the  palace,  with  benches  arranged  on 
either  side  for  the  bishops.  The  members  of  the  council  first 
entered,  and  silently  took  their  seats :  they  were  followed  by 
a  small  group  of  the  distinguished  friends  of  the  emperor. 
Then,  upon  a  given  signal,  all  rose,  and  the  emperor  himself 
came  in.  He  was  robed  in  imperial  purple,  and  his  gorgeous 
attire  glistened  with  embroidery  of  gems  and  gold.  A  golden 
throne  was  prepared  for  him  at  the  end  of  the  hall,  where  he 
took  his  seat  to  preside  over  the  deliberations. 

One  of  the  most  prominent  of  the  bishops,  Eustache  of  An- 
tioch,  then  rose,  and,  in  the  name  of  the  council,  thanked  the 
emperor  for  all  the  favors  he  had  conferred  UDon  Christianity. 
The  emperor  briefly  replied,  expressing  the  joy  he  felt  in  pre- 
siding over  such  an  assembly,  and  his  hope  tlij^t  they  might 
come  to  a  perfectly  harmonious  result.  lie  spoke  ia  Latin,  his 
native  language.  An  intsrpreter  repeated  his  words  in  Greek 
for  the  benefit  of  those  who  ware  most  familiar  with  that  lan- 
guage. 

The  council  continued  in  session  until  tne  2.'5ta  of  August, 
—  sixty-seven  days.  The  principal,  the  almost  exclusive  at- 
tention of  the  council  was  directed  to  the  new  doctrine  of 
Alius,  —  that  Christ,  the  Son,  was  not  equal  to  the  father,  but 
was  created  by  him,  and  was  subordinate  to  him.  The  decision 
of  the  council,  called  the  lliceae  Creed,  rebuked,  in  the  most 
emphatic  terms,  the  Arian  dostrine  as  heresy.  Its  language 
upon  this  point  was  as  followo  :  — 

"  We  believe  in  one  only  God,  Father  aU-powerful,  Creator 
of  all  things  visible  and  invisible ;  und  in  one  only  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  the  only  Son,  engendered  of  the  Father  (that  is  to  say, 
of  the  substance  of  the  Father),  God  of  God,  Light  of  Light, 
very  God  of  very  God,  begotten  and  not  made,  consubstantial 
with  the  Father,  through  whom  every  thing  has  been  made  in 
heaven  and  on  earth;  who  for  us  men,  and  for  our  salvation, 
has  descended  from  the  skies,  has  become  incarnate  and  made 
man,  has  sujffered,  rose  en  the  third  day,  ascended  to  the  skies, 
and  wiU  come  to  judge  the  living  and  the  dead." 


320  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Thus  words  were  heaped  upon  words,  to  express,  beyond  all 
possibility  of  doubt,  the  sense  of  the  council  of  the  entire 
equality  of  the  Son  with  the  Father.  The  Arians  seemed  dis- 
posed to  accept  the  same  language  used  by  the  Trinitarians, 
while  they  affixed  a  different  signification  to  the  words. 

"  The  bishops,"  writes  the  Abbe  Fleury,  "  seeing  the  dis- 
simulation of  the  Arians,  and  their  bad  faith,  were  constrained, 
that  they  might  express  their  meaning  more  unequivocally, 
to  include  in  a  single  word  the  sense  of  the  Scriptures,  and 
to  say  th?.t  the  Goa  is  eonsubstantial  with  the  Father,  making 
use  of  the  Greek  word  homoousios,  which  this  dispute  has 
since  rendered  h;o  celebrated.  They  thus  declared  that  tha 
Son  was  not  only  like  the  Father,  but  the  same,  —  identical 
ivith  him. 

All  the  bichops  but  two  signed  this  creed.  After  some  con- 
ference, those  two  signed  also. 

"It  is  said,"  writes  Sasebius, — "and  it  is  Philistorge,  an 
Arian  author,  who  says  it,  —  that  th^se  two,  Eusebius  of  Nico- 
media,  and  Theognis  of  Nice,  used  fraud  in  their  subscriptions, 
which  they  ir;ade  together.  They  inserted  the  letter  i  in  the 
word  homoousios,  so  that  it  read  homoiousios  ;  which  signifies 
similar  to,  not  identically  the  same." 

The  doctrinj  of  Arius  was  thus  condemned,  as  contrary  to 
the  teachings  of  the  Scriptures,  by  this  numerous  coimcil  of 
pastors  from  all  parts  of  the  then  known  world.  Several 
other  subjects  of  minor  importance  were  discussed,  and  decided 
upon.  The  Holy  Spirit  was  declared  to  be  also,  like  the  Son, 
equal  with  the  Father,  and  identically  the  same.  The  emperor 
wrote  a  letter,  which  was  published  with  the  decrees  of  coun- 
cil, urging  that  they  should  be  accepted  in  all  the  churches, 
"  The  results,"  said  he,  "  of  theoe  sacrei  deliberations  of  the 
bishops,  must  be  in  accordance  with  the  will  of  God."  In  the 
most  severe  terms  he  cor  lemned  the  doctrine  of  Arius,  com- 
manding that  his  writings,  wherever  found,  should  be  burned. 
It  was  a  dark  age.  Toleration  was  but  little  known.  The 
emperor  even  went  to  the  unwarrantable  length  of  saying,  — 

"  Whoever  shall  conceal  ai:y  thing  which  Arius  has  written, 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  CONSTANTINE.  321 

instead  of  delivering  it  up  to  be  burned,  shall  be  put  to  death 
immediately  upon  being  taken." 

Conversions  from  paganism  were  becoming  frequent  and 
numerous.  Under  the  fostering  care  of  the  emperor,  churches 
rose  all  over  the  land. 

A  tragic  event  in  the  life  of  this  extraordinary  man  deserves 
record.  His  second  wife  was  a  beautiful  woman  named  Fausta, 
much  younger  than  himself.  She  was  i^bout  the  age  of  the 
emperor's  very  handsome  son  Crispus.  Fausta  fell  in  love 
with  the  young  man.  Virtuously  he  repelled  her  advances. 
It  is  written,  — 

"  Hell  hath  no  fury  like  a  woman  scorned." 

Fausta  rushed  to  Constantine,  and  accused  Crispus  of  atro- 
cious crime.  The  imperial  father,  in  the  frenzy  of  his  rage, 
ordered  his  innocent  son  to  be  led  instantly  to  execution.  His 
headless  body  was  hardly  in  the  tomb  ere  the  truth  of  his 
wife's  guilt  and  his  son's  innocence  was  made  known  to  the 
unhappy  emperor  beyond  all  possibility  of  doubt.  In  the  de- 
lirium-of  his  anguish,  he  ordered  Fausta  to  be  drowned  in  her 
bath. 

Henceforward,  for  Constantine,  life  was  but  a  dismal  day. 
He  never  recovered  from  the  gloom  of  these  events ;  and  it 
is  said  that  he  was  never  known  to  smile  again.  For  forty 
days  he  fasted,  weeping  and  groaning,  and  denying  himself 
all  comforts.  He  erected  a  golden  statue  to  Crispus,  with  this 
simple,  pathetic  inscription  :  — 

"To  MY  Son,  whom  I  unjustly  condemned." 

The  conversion  of  Constantine  to  Christianity  w;«  at  first 
intellectual  only,  not  the  regeneration  of  the  h«Lart.  He  was 
a  nominal  Christian,  believing  in  Christ.  Still  there  is  no 
evidence  that  he  had  been  born  again  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  or 
that  he  had  accepted  Christ  as  his  personal,  atoning  Saviour. 
The  cares  and  sorrows  of  life  tend  to  lead  every  thoughtful 
mind  to  Jesus.  Constantine  had  become  a  world-weary,  heart- 
broken old  man,  sixty-four  years  of  age.  Rapidly-increasing 
infirmities  admonished  him  that  he  must  soon  appear  before 

2 


322  EISTOBT  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

the  judgment-seat  of  Christ,  — before  that  Saviour  whose  au- 
thority his  intellect  had  been  constrained  to  recognize,  but  to 
whom,  as  yet,  he  had  not  fully  surrendered  his  heart. 

Deeply  depressed  in  spirits,  and  sinking  beneath  his  mala- 
dies, he  retired  to  some  warm  springs  in  Asia.  Death  waa 
slowly  but  steadily  approaching.  Constantino  repaired  to  the 
church,  and  with  tears  and  prayers,  and  deep  searchings  of 
soul,  sought  preparation  to  meet  God.  Having  obtained,  as 
he  thought,  assurance  that  his  sins  were  forgiven,  he  assembled 
all  the  bishops  of  the  neighboring  churches  in  his  palace,  near 
the  city  of  Nicomedia,  and,  with  as  much  publicity  as  could 
be  exercised  without  ostentation,  confessed  his  Saviour  before 
men,  received  the  rite  of  baptism,  and  the  sacrament  of  tht» 
Lord's  Supper. 

EusebiuS;  the  renowned  Bishop  of  Nicomcdia,  performed 
the  rite  of  baptism,  and  administered  the  sacred  elements.  It 
is  to  the  pen  of  this  illustrious  bishop  that  we  are  indebted 
for  most  of  the  incidents  in  relation  to  the  religious  history 
of  Cons'tantine.  Prom  this  time  until  his  death,  which  oc- 
curred ::oon  after,  he  seemed  to  live  as  a  sincere  and  devout 
followe''  of  the  Redeemer.  Eusebius  says,  •'  Constantine,  on 
receiving  baptism,  determined  to  govern  himself  henceforth,  in 
the  minutcbt  particulars,  by  God's  worthy  laws  of  life." 

The  emperor  died  at  Nicomedia  on  the  21st  of  May,  in  the 
year  337.  Ke  was  sixty-four  years  of  age,  and  had  reigned 
thirty-one  years.  This  was  the  longest  reign  of  aiy  Roman 
ejnperor  since  the  days  of  Augustus  Caesar.  His  funeral  was 
attended  with  all  the  marks  of  homage  which  love  and  grati- 
tude and  imperial  power  could  confer. 

How  singular  and  how  touching  are  these  triumphs  of  Chris- 
tianity 1  The  poor  benighted  slave  in  hio  cheerless  hut,  bleed- 
ing and  dying  beneath  the  lash,  finds  in  the  religion  of  Jesiis 
that  peace  and  joy  to  which  the  monarch  in  his  palace  is  often 
a  stranger.  The  martyr  in  the  dungeon,  wan  and  wasted  with 
material  misery,  with  pallid  lips  sings  hallelujahs  to  Him  who 
hath  redeemed  him  to  God  by  his  blood. 

The  imperial  Constantino,  robed  in  the  purple  of  nearly  uni- 


THE  CONVERSION  OF  CONSTANTINE.  323 

rersal  empire,  in  tlie  gorgeous  palace  of  Nicomedia,  surrounded 
with  all  the  pomp  and  splendor  of  an  Oriental  monarch,  finds 
his  heart  yearn  for  those  consolations  which  the  religion  of 
Jesus  alone  can  give.  He  bows  his  head  to  the  water  of  bap- 
tism ;  he  partakes  of  the  sacred  bread  and  wine  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  solemnly,  devoutly,  tearfully ;  and  finally,  when  sink- 
ing away  in  death,  he  breathes  the  prayer,  "  Lord  Jesus,  re- 
ceive my  spirit." 

A  few  centuries  rolled  away,  and  there  was  another  monarch, 
the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  whose  sceptre  ruled  almost  the  whole 
known  world.  Weary  of  life,  and  oppressed  with  the  sense  of 
sin,  he  sought  a  religious  retreat  in  the  solitary  Vale  of  Estre- 
madura.  In  the  cloisters  of  the  Convent  of  St.  Justus  the 
abdicated  emperor  wept  over  his  sins,  and  sought  forgiveneba 
through  the  atoning  Saviour.  He  announced  to  the  whole 
world  his  penitence,  and  his  trust  in  Jesus.  The  regal  mind, 
which  had  proudly  stood  untottering  beneath  the  cares  of  uni- 
versal empire,  bowed  in  humble  submission  to  the  religion  of 
Jesus,  which  alone  can  meet  the  yearnings  of  the  humble  and 
contrite  soul. 

A  few  centuries  pass,  and  another  emperor  arises  who  at- 
tracts the  gaze  of  the  world.  Neither  Constantine  nor  Charles 
V.  wielded  a  sceptre,  which,  in  the  elements  of  grandeur  and 
power,  surpassed  that  of  Napoleon  I.  Look  at  the  dethroned 
monarch,  as,  through  the  long  agony  of  St.  Helena,  he  sinks 
into  the  grave.  He,  before  whose  imperial  will  all  Europe 
had  bowed,  was  dying  upon  his  miserable  pallet  at  Longwood. 
Tu.'tt  eagle  eye  was  dimmed  with  tears,  as,  bolstered  up  in  his 
br.d,  with  penitence  for  sin,  and  avowed  trust  in  the  atoning 
Saviour,  he  received  the  emblems  of  that  body  which  was 
broken,  and  that  blood  which  was  shed,  for  our  sins  :  then,  a 
peaceful  penitent,  surrendering  himself  to  the  arms  of  that 
Saviour  who  has  saitl,  "  Whoso  cometh  unto  me  I  will  in  no 
wise  cast  out,"  he  fell  asleep ;  we  trust, 

"  Asleep  in  Jesus !  —  blessed  sleep  ! 
From  which  none  ever  wake  to  weep." 

How  signal  are  these  triumphs  of  Christianity  1  —  triumphs 


324  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 

w)iich  fill  80  many  pages  of  history  and  biography.  How  beau- 
tiful is  this  religion  of  Jesus  in  its  adaptation  to  every  con- 
ceivable condition  and  want  of  life  !  The  Emperor  Constantine, 
master  of  the  world,  with  almost  limitless  power  in  his  hand 
and  boundless  wealth  in  his  lap,  needs  this  religion  just  aa 
much  as  the  humblest  slave  or  the  feeblest  child  in  his  realms. 
There  is  no  royal  road  to  heaven.  Constantine,  like  all  others, 
could  only  find  peace  by  penitence  for  sin,  the  public  acknowl- 
edgment of  his  faith  in  an  atoning  Saviour,  and  the  prayerful 
consecration  of  himself  to  God.  You  and  I,  my  readers,  can 
find  salvation  only  where  Constantine  found  it.  There  is  but 
one  door  through  which  we  can  enter  the  heavenly  kingdom : 
that  door  is  Christ. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


JULIAN   THE   APOSTATE, 


riie  Devotion  of  Conetantine  to  Christianity.  —  Constantius  and  the  Barbariana,  - 
Conspiracy  of  Magnentiue.  —  The  Decisive  Battle.  —  Decay  of  Rome,  —  Fearfu] 
Retribution.  —  Noble  Sentiments  of  the  Bishop  of  Alexandria.  —  Death  of  Con- 
stantius.—  Gallus  and  Julian.  —  Julian  enthroned. — His  Apostasy.  —  Hie  War- 
fare against  Christianity. —  Unavailing  Attempt  to  rebuild  Jerusalem, — Per- 
secution. —  His  Expedition  to  the  East,  and  Painful  Death, 


'HE  Christian  Emperor  Constantine,  during  his 
reign,  issued  many  earnest  appeals  to  his  sub- 
jects, entreating  them  to  abandon  paganism,  and 
embrace  Christianity,  Heliopolis,  in  Phoenicia, 
was  a  heathen  city,  which  had  surrendered  itself 
to  the  most  degrading  and  abominable  rites  of 
idolatry.  There  was  not  a  single  known  Chris- 
tian in  the  city. 

The  emperor  sent  workmen  to  the  place,  and,  at  his  own  ex- 
pense, erected  a  very  beautiful  church  edifice.  He  then  selected 
several  clergymen  of  marked  ability,  and  commissioned  them 
to  preach  the  gospel  there.  At  the  same  time  he  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  pastors  a  large  sum  of  money  for  the  relief  of  the 
poor,  saying,  — 

"  I  hope  that  the  conversion  of  the  souls  of  the  pagans  may 
be  promoted  by  doing  good  to  their  bodies," 

The  most  convincing  evidence  which  the  community  in  gen- 
eral can  have  of  the  reality  of  the  Christian  religion  is  to  be 
found  in  the  lives  of  its  professors.     When  we  compare  the 

325 


326  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Christian  Constantine  with  most  of  the  pagan  emperors  who 
had  gone  before  him,  all  must  be  impressed  with  the  greatness 
of  the  change. 

The  palace  is  a  dangerous  place  for  the  education  and  the 
training  of  children.  Constantine  had  three  sons,  who  bore 
severally  the  names  of  Constantine,  Constantius,  and  Constans  : 
they  were  all  dissipated.  Upon  the  death  of  their  father,  the 
empire  was  divided  between  them.  Tho  eldest  son,  Constan- 
tine, who  was  twenty-one  years  of  age,  had  assigned  to  him 
Spain,  Gaul  (now  France),  and  all  the  territory  west  of  the 
Alps.  Constantms,  who  was  but  twenty  years  old,  took  Asia 
and  Egypt.  Constans,  who  had  attained  but  seventeen  years, 
received,  as  his  share,  Italy  and  Africa.^ 

Constantine  the  father,  with  his  vigorous  arm,  had  held  the 
barbarians  in  check.  God  had  apparently  heard  his  prayers,  and 
had  given  him  the  victory  over  his  enemies.  His  death  was  the 
signal  for  a  general  war.  Constantius,  in  the  East,  was  soon 
struggling  against  an  inundation  of  Tartar  tribes.  The  usual 
scenes  of  blood  and  misery  ensued,  as  the  hostile  armies,  now 
in  surging  waves  of  victory,  now  in  the  refluent  billows  of  de- 
feat, swept  the  doomed  land. 

While  Constantius  was  thus  engaged  struggling  against  the 
barbarians  on  the  plains  of  Asia,  Constantine  was  plotting  an 
expedition  against  his  brother  Constans,  who  was  a  mere  boy, 
proud,  conceited,  and  incompetent.  But  the  race  is  not  al- 
ways to  the  swift.  Constantine,  with  a  large  army,  crossed  the 
Julian  Alps,  and  invaded  Italy  to  wrest  that  kingdom  from 
Lis  brother.  Ev.t  Constans,  whom  Constantine  had  despised, 
had  able  generals.  They  lured  Constantine  into  an  ambush, 
routed  his  army,  killed  him,  and  annexed  aU  his  realms  to  the 
Western  empire. 

Soon  after  this,  a  sturdy  general,  Magnentius,  formed  a  con- 
spiracy in  the  army,  killed  young  Constans,  and  was  pro- 
claimed emperor  by  the  soldiers.  All  the  Western  and  Central 
realms  acknowledged  him. 

Constantius,  from  the  East,  put  his  veteran  army  in  motion, 

1  Hlstoire  du  Christianisme,  pjar  l'Abb6  Fleury,  t.  i.  p.  480. 


JULIAN  THE  APOSTATE.  327 

and  advanced  from  the  plains  of  Mesopotamia  to  make  war 
open  Magnentius  and  to  avenge  his  brother's  death.  The  whole 
t^ien  known  world  was  thrown  into  commotion  by  this  strife, 
which  was  to  decide  who  should  be  master  of  this  world.  War 
and  woe  held  high  carnival.  There  were  famine,  pestilence, 
and  death,  smouldering  towns,  blood-stained  fields  covered 
with  the  slain,  and  despairing  shrieks  of  widows  and  orphans. 

The  hostile  armies  met  in  vast  numbers  on  the  River  Drave, 
not  far  from  its  entrance  into  the  Danube.  It  was  one  of  those 
battles  which  was  to  decide  the  fate  of  the  world.  Constantius, 
aware  of  the  military  ability  of  his  antagonist,  wisely,  but  not 
heroically,  retired  to  the  tower  of  a  church  where  he  could  over- 
look the  field.  He  left  the  conduct  of  the  day  to  one  of  his 
veteran  generals. 

A  fiercer  battle  than  that  which  ensued  was  perhaps  never 
fought.  Roman  and  barbarian  legions  were  intermingled, 
blending  in  the  fight.  The  air  was  darkened  with  stonec, 
arrows,  and  javelins.  Clouds  of  horsemen,  glittering  in  their 
polished  armor,  swept  the  field  like  moving  statues  of  steel, 
trampling  the  dead  and  wounded  beneath  iron  hoofs.  Night 
terminated  the  conflict. 

The  army  of  Magnentius,  overpowered  by  numbers,  was 
almost  annihilated.  Fifty-four  thousand  were  left  dead  upon 
the  field.  They  sold  their  lives  dearly.  A  still  greater  number 
of  the  troops  of  Constantius  lay  drenched  in  blood  by  their 
side.  Over  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  perished  in  this 
one  battle.  Thus  did  Rome,  in  civil  strife,  devour  her  own 
children.  Thus  was  the  way  opened  fcT  the  irruption  and 
triumph  of  the  barbarians. 

In  the  darkness  of  night,  Magnentius,  throwing  aside  his 
imperial  mantle,  mouuted  a  fleet  horse,  and,  accompanied  by 
a  few  friends,  attempted  to  escape  through  the  Julian  Alps. 
He  reached  the  city  of  Aquileia,  at  the  head  of  the  Adriatic 
Sea,  not  far  from  the  present  city  of  Trieste.  Here,  amidst 
the  pathless  defiles  of  the  mountains,  he  rallied  his  surviving 
troops  around  him,  and  made  another  stand. 

But  city  after  city  abandoned  his  cause,  and  raised  the  ban- 


328  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

ner  of  the  victorious  Constantius.  He  then  fled  to  Gaul.  Con- 
Btantius  rigorously  pursued  him.  At  length,  hedged  in  od 
every  side,  the  wretched  Magnentius,  in  despair,  terminated 
his  life  hy  falling  upon  his  own  sword.  He  thus  ohtained  an 
easier  death  than  he  could  have  hoped  for  from  his  foe. 

Thus  was  the  whole  Roman  world  again  brought  under  the 
sway  of  a  single  sovereign.  Constantius,  the  son  of  Constan- 
tino the  Great,  reigned  without  a  rival,  from  the  western  shores 
of  Britain  to  the  River  Tigris,  and  from  the  unexplored  realms 
of  Central  Germany  to  the  interior  of  Africa.  But  over  these 
wide  realms  there  was  nowhere  happiness  or  peace.  The  be- 
nevolence of  God  seemed  to  be  thwarted  by  ihe  wickedness  of 
mankind. 

The  Goths,  in  merciless  bands,  were  sweeping  over  Gaul, 
leaving  the  path  behind  them  crimsoned  with  blood,  and  black- 
ened with  smouldering  ruins.  Germanic  tribes,  pitiless  as 
wolves,  were  flocking  across  the  Danube,  darkening  the  air 
with  the  smoke  of  burning  villages,  and  rending  the  skies  with 
the  shrieks  of  their  victims.  From  the  vast  plains  of  Tartary, 
bands  of  shaggy  monsters,  fierce  as  the  beasts  which  roamed 
their  wilds,  came  rushing  across  the  eastern  frontier  into  the 
war-scathed  empire.  There  was  peace  nowhere.  Every  day 
brought  its  battles  and  its  woes. 

The  ancient  city  of  Rome,  no  longer  the  capital  of  the  em- 
pire, was  now  crumbling  to  decay.  Constantius,  from  curiosity, 
visited  it.  He  found  the  population  stiU  immense,  and  was 
received  by  the  inhabitants  with  great  enthusiasm.  The  im- 
perial palace  which  he  occupied  had  entertained  no  royal  guest 
for  thirty-two  years.  After  spending  a  month  in  tht»  city, 
admiring  the  monuments  of  genius  and  art  which  were  *ipread 
over  the  seven  hills,  he  was  suddenly  recalled  to  meet  au  ap- 
palling irruption  of  the  barbarians  from  the  Danube.  They 
were  ravaging  that  wide  and  beautiful  valley  with  every  con- 
ceivable atrocity,  and  had  already  captured  many  thouv^Hnd 
Romans, — men,  women,  and  children,  —  whom  they  v^ere 
carrying  as  slaves  into  their  inaccessible  wilds.  Among  th-«se 
prisoners  were  men  of  the  highest  rank,  and  ladies  of  refij*^6' 
ment  and  beauty. 


JULIAN   THE  APOSTATE.  329 

Constantius  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  a  veteran  army,  and 
pursued  the  barbarians  with  such  vigor  as  to  compel  them  to 
drop  many  of  their  captives  and  much  of  their  plunder,  and 
to  retreat  in  confusion  to  their  forest-glades.  He  then  turned 
his  legions  towards  the  east,  and  hurried  along  by  forced  march- 
es towards  the  River  Euphrates.  Here  a  barbarian  chieftain, 
called  Sapor,  was  ravaging  Mesopotamia  with  an  army  of  a 
hundred  thousand  savage  men  from  the  wilds  of  Tartary. 

The  Roman  emperor  was  prosecuting  with  great  vigor  this 
arduous  campaign,  when  he  heard  the  tidings  of  a  revolt  in 
Gaul,  and  that  the  army  there  had  proclaimed  its  general  aa 
emperor.  Burning  with  rage,  he  commenced  a  rapid  march 
with  his  legions  tcwards  the  west,  when  he  was  seized  with  vio- 
lent sickness  which  arrested  his  steps.  While  languishing  on 
a  bed  of  pain,  with  the  sceptre  of  imperial  power  crumbling  in 
his  hands,  and  death  staring  him  in  the  face,  the  sins  of  his 
life  rose  appallingly  before  him.  It  soon  bc?f  me  manifest  that 
his  earthly  career  was  drawing  to  a  close. 

Constantius  had  been  politically  in  favor  of  Christianity  as 
the  religion  of  the  State.  He  regarded  the  pagan  party  as  his 
political  enemy.  Destitute  himself  of  the  spirit  of  Christiani- 
ty, he  commenced  the  unrelenting  persecution  of  his  pagan 
adversaries,  confiscating  their  property,  and  sending  them  to 
the  rack,  the  dungeon,  and  the  stake. 

It  is  remarkable  all  through  history,  how,  under  the  govern 
ment  of  God,  there  seems  to  be  developed  a  system  of  rotribu 
tion.  "We  ever  meet  that  principle  in  the  biography  of  indi 
viduals,  and  in  the  vicissitudes  of  nations.  The  pagans  had 
persecuted  the  Christians  with  cruelty  which  demons  could  not 
have  surpassed ;  and  now  God  allowed  a  bad  man,  a  Christian 
in  name  only,  to  torture  the  pagans  w.'th  the  same  weapons 
which  they  had  so  pitilessly  wielded.  It  is  a  fact,  which  every 
Christian  will  read  with  pleasure,  that  the  true  disciples  of 
Jesus  remonstrated  against  this  retaliation.  Athanasius,  Bishop 
of  Alexandria,  earnestly  expostulating,  wrote,  — 

"When  men  resort  to  persecution,  it  is  evident  that  they 
wint  confidence  in  their  own  faith.     Satan,  because  there  is 


330  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

no  truth  in  him,  pays  away  with  hatchet  and  sword.  The 
Saviour  is  so  gentle,  that  he  only  says,  *  Whosoever  will,  let  him 
be  my  disciple.'  He  forces  none.  He  knocks  at  the  door  of 
the  soul,  and  says,  '  Open  to  me,  my  sister.'  If  the  door  m 
opened,  he  goes  in.  It  is  the  character  of  true  piety  not  to 
force,  but  to  convince." 

The  emperor  was  influenced  by  political  considerations  only. 
He  regarded  the  pagan  party  simply  as  his  antagonists,  who 
sought  his  overthrow  that  they  might  grasp  the  reins  of  power. 
In  co-operation  with  his  court,  he  ordered  the  demolition  of 
their  temples,  and  directed  all  the  energies  of  fire  and  sword 
to  the  demolition  of  the  idolaters.  Thus  the  flames  of  perse- 
cution, which  once  consumed  the  Christians,  now  blazed  almost 
as  fiercely  in  wrapping  the  pagans  in  their  fiery  folds. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  the  world  towards  the  close  of  the 
fourth  century,  Jaristianity  had  undermined  all  the  temples 
of  idolatry,  and  was  enthroned  as  the  established  religion  of 
the  Eoman  empire.  Ambitious  men  rallied  about  it  as  a  great 
political  power.  Wicked  men  nominally  embraced  it  as  an 
essential  step  to  worldly  advancement.  Christianity  had  thus, 
perhaps,  more  to  fear  from  favoritism  than  from  persecution. 
Unprincipled  men,  grasping  at  wealth  and  power,  embraced 
Christianity  merely  as  an  instrument  for  the  promotion  of 
their  own  temporal  aggrandizement.  They  hated  its  spiritual 
teachings,  and  endeavored  to  make  it  a  religion  of  dead  doc- 
trines and  of  pompous  ceremonies,  rather  than  a  rule  to  govern 
heart  and  life.  They  crucified  Christianity  while  crown- 
ing it. 

Lured  by  hopes  of  court  favor  and  preferment,  many  who 
were  still  in  heart  pagans  had  hypocritically  professed  Chris- 
tianity. Corruption  thus  crept  into  the  Church,  To  concih- 
ate  the  ignorant  idolatrous  populace,  and  to  lure  them  into  the 
Christian  churches,  the  pomp  and  pageantry  of  pagan  rites 
were  introduced  to  supplant  the  unostentatious  and  simple 
ordinances  of  the  gospel.  Hence  the  origin  of  those  theatric 
ehows  which  are  still  the  prominent  ftatures  in  the  worship  of 
the  Church  at  Rome, 


JULIAN  TEE  APOSTATE.  331 

The  daatli-bed  of  Constantius  was  that  of  an  awakened  and 
despairing  sinner.  He  had  been  a  wicked  man.  He  had 
known  his  duty ;  for  he  had  enjoyed  the  teachings  of  a  Chris- 
tian father.  He  had  also  heard  the  faithful  preaching  of  the 
gospel. 

Death  brings  all  to  the  same  level:  the  emperor  and  his 
humblest  slave  are  upon  an  equality  in  that  dread  hour.  Aa 
one  reads  the  record  of  the  remorse  of  the  dying  Constantius, 
he  may  say,  — 

"  By  many  a  death-bed  I  have  been, 
By  many  a  sinner's  parting  scene, 
But  never  aught  like  this." 

As  the  moment  drew  near  when  his  spirit,  leaving  the  body, 
was  to  be  transported  to  God's  bar,  he  trembled,  and  cried  aloud 
for  mercy.  He  gathered  the  most  devout  of  the  clergy  around 
his  bedside,  and  entreated  them  to  pray  for  him. 

Professing  heart-felt  repentance,  the  dying  monarch  im- 
plored that  the  rite  of  baptism  and  that  of  the  Lord's  Supper 
might  be  administered  to  him.  He  received  both  of  these  or- 
dinances, and  still  found  but  little  peace.  There  are  doubtless 
death-bed  repentances ;  but  they  are  very  rare.  It  is  only  by 
living  the  life  of  the  righteous  that  one  can  expect  to  know  by 
blessed  experience  what  it  is  "  sweetly  to  fall  asleep  in  Jesus." 
Trembling,  hoping,  despairing,  the  imperial  sinner  passed  away 
into  the  vast  unknown. 

How  deep  is  the  shade  of  melancholy  which  lingers  around 
these  sad  recitals  !  Where  now  are  those  monarchs  who  once 
ruled  the  world  ?  Where  now  are  the  soldiers  of  those  throng- 
ing armies,  which,  fourteen  centuries  ago,  swept  the  nations 
with  billows  of  flame  and  blood  ? 

And  where  shall  we  all  be  when  a  few  more  of  these  fleeting 
years  shall  have  passed  away  ?  Is  it  wise  to  live  for  this  world 
alone,  when  life  is  such  a  vapor,  and  when  we  are  so  soon  to  be 
ushered  into  the  dread  scenes  of  eternity?  There  is  a  voice, 
solemn  as  the  grave,  coming  up  to  us  from  aU  these  past  ages, 
saying,  "  Prepare  to  meet  thy  God." 


332  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY, 

"  The  sun  is  but  a  spark  of  fire, 
A  transient  meteor  in  the  sky : 
The  soul,  immortal  as  its  Sire, 
Shall  never  die." 

The  three  sons  of  Constantine  the  Great  were  now  dead 
Neither  of  them  left  a  male  heir.  Constantius  had  two  cousins, 
of  whom,  during  his  whole  life,  he  had  always  stood  in  great 
dread,  lest  they  should  aspire  to  the  crown.  He  had  caused 
them  hoth  to  be  arrested  and  imprisoned.  Though  thus  held 
as  captives,  they  were  bound,  as  it  were,  with  golden  chains. 
A  magnificent  palace  was  assigned  them,  where  they  were 
provided  with  every  luxury.  They  were,  however,  closely 
guarded,  not  being  allowed  to  leave  the  spacious  grounds  of 
the  palace.  They  were  permitted  to  see  such  company  only 
as  the  emperor  would  admit  to  their  presence. 

At  length,  Constantius  had  appointed  Gallus,  the  elder  of 
these  brothers,  viceroy  of  the  Eastern  empire.  Gallus  took  up 
his  residence  at  Antioch,  and  immediately  released  his  brother 
Julian,  and  received  him  at  his  court.  Constantius,  in  a  fit  of 
jealousy  and  rage,  caused  Gallus  to  be  assassinated.  He  also 
re-arrested  Julian,  and  confined  him  for  seven  months  in  a 
castle  at  Milan,  where  the  imprisoned  prince  daily  expected  to 
meet  the  doom  of  his  brother.  Through  the  intercession  of 
Eusebia,  the  wife  of  Constantius,  the  life  of  Julian  was  spared. 
He  was  sent  into  honorable  exile  to  the  city  of  Athens. 

Jvdian  had  from  childhood  developed  unusual  scholarly  acd 
philosophic  tastes.  In  the  groves  of  the  Academy  at  Athens 
he  had  devoted  himself  assiduously  to  the  cultivation  of  Greek 
literature.  When  Constantius  set  out  on  his  military  expedi- 
tion to  the  Euphrates,  he  named  Julian  as  his  heir  to  the  throne, 
and  also  directed  him  to  take  charge  of  an  army  to  beat  back 
the  barbarians  who  were  ravaging  the  Valley  of  the  Danube 
and  the  Ehine.  As  Julian,  the  man  of  books,  the  bashful, 
retiring  scholar,  received  this  appointment,  he  exclaimed,  "  0 
Plato,  Plato  !   what  a  task  for  a  philosopher  !  " 

Julian,  enamoured  of  the  classic  literature  of  Greece  and 
Rome,    had  become   an   actual   worshipper  at  the   idolatious 


JULIAN  THE  APOSTATE.  333 

•brines  of  the  pagans.  He  loved  poetic  dreamings,  and  rev- 
elled in  the  wild  mythology  of  his  ancestors.  He  was  just  one 
of  those  men  whom  we  now  politely  call  conservative  men,  or, 
more  irreverently,  old  fogies.  He  clung  to  ancient  supersti- 
tions and  rotten  abuses,  and  was  quite  opposed  to  the  innova- 
tions and  reforms  which  Christianity  would  introduce. 

But  suddenly  he  developed  traits  of  character  which  surprised 
every  one.  He  entered  the  camp,  shared  the  coarse  food  and 
the  hardships  of  the  meanest  soldiers,  and  developed  military 
ability  of  the  highest  order.  At  Strasburg  on  the  Rhine,  in 
command  of  but  thirteen  thousand  men,  he  assailed,  and  after 
a  terrific  battle  put  to  flight,  thirty-five  thousand  of  the  fiercest 
barbarians  of  the  North.  In  the  heat  of  this  hard-fought  bat- 
tle, six  hundred  Roman  cuirassiers,  overpowered  by  the  enemy, 
in  a  panic  fled.  Julian  punished  them  by  dressing  them  in 
women's  robes,  and  marching  them  along  his  lines  amidst  the 
derision  of  the  whole  army. 

He  crossed  the  Danube  with  his  heroic  troops,  and  advanced 
boldly  into  the  almost  unknown  regions  of  the  north,  cutting 
down  the  German  tribes  mercilessly  before  him.  He  liberated, 
and  restored  to  their  homes,  twenty  thousand  Roman  captives 
who'  had  been  carried  off  as  slaves  into  these  wilds. 

Julian,  on  his  return  from  this  successful  expedition,  repaired 
to  Paris  for  his  winter  quarters.  Three  centuries  before  this 
time,  Julius  Caesar  had  found  this  now-renowned  city  a  mere 
collection  of  fishermen's  huts  on  a  small  island  in  the  Seine. 
It  was  called  Lutetia,  which  signified  The  Place  of  Mire.  Since 
then  the  wretched  little  village  had  gradually  increased.  The 
•mall,  marshy  island  had  become  entirely  covered  with  houses. 
Two  wooden  bridges  connected  it  with  the  shore.  Julian  was 
much  pleased  with  the  place,  and  built  him  a  palace  there. 

Const»jitius  was  at  this  time  in  the  Valley  of  the  Euphrates, 
contending,  as  we  have  mentioned,  against  Sapor.  He  became 
jealous  of  the  renown  which  Julian  was  acquiring.  To  weaken 
him,  and  thus  to  prevent  hi<^  gaining  any  more  victories,  he 
ordered  a  large  portion  of  bis  army  to  be  withdrawn  from  Gaul, 
and  sect  to  the  Euphrates.     Julian  easily  induced  his  soldiers 


334  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

to  refuse  to  go,  Clasliing  their  weapons,  they  rallied  around 
their  commander,  and,  with  loud  huzzas,  declared  him  to  be 
their  emperor. 

Constantius,  foaming  with  rage,  put  his  army  in  motion  vo 
march  to  Gaul  for  the  destruction  of  his  rival.  He  had  but 
reached  Tarsus  in  Cilicia,  the  birthplace  of  the  apoatle  Paul, 
when  he  died. 

Such  was  the  history  of  Julian  before  his  assumption  of 
the  imperial  diadem.  He  was  at  the  head  of  his  army,  ju** 
entering  the  defiles  of  the  Alps,  hurrying  to  meet  Constantius 
in  battle,  when  he  heard  the  welcome  tidings  of  his  deatli. 
Julian  was  then  thirty-two  years  of  age.  With  great  eager- 
ness he  pressed  on  to  Constantinople,  where  he  was  crowned 
emperor  on  the  11th  of  December,  361. 

This  extraordinary  man  now  resolved  to  restore  paganism, 
and  to  abolish  and  utterly  annihilate  Christianity.  Publicly, 
and  with  imposing  ceremonies,  he  made  a  renunciation  of  the 
Christian  religion,  and  committed  himself  to  the  care  of  the 
pagan  gods.  As  the  conversion  of  the  Emperor  Constantine 
was  one  of  the  most  signal  events  in  the  history  of  the  Church, 
80  was  the  apostasy  of  the  Emperor  Julian  one  of  the  memo- 
rable events  in  the  history  of  mankind.  A  bolder  act  of 
infidelity  and  atheism  has  perhaps  never  been  recorded  in  the 
annals  of  our  race. 

Even  the  infidel  Gibbon,  in  allusion  to  it,  and  to  the  invet- 
erate zeal  with  which  Julian  persecuted  the  Christians,  quotes 
the  soul-stirring  words  of  Milton  in  reference  to  the  apostate 
angel  Satan,  as  from  heU's  dark  domains  1.9  winged  his  flight 
for  the  seduction  and  ruin  of  our  race  :  — 

"  So  eagerly  the  Fiend 
O'er  bog  or  steep,  through  strait,  rough,  dense,  or  raxe. 
With  head,  hands,  wings,  or  feet,  pursues  his  way, 
And  swims,  or  sinks,  or  wades,  or  creeps,  or  fiics." 

Thus  Julian  pressed  on  inexorably  till  death,  endeavoring 
to  crush  the  religion  of  Jesus,  and  to  reinstate  the  gorgeous 
but  senseless  mummeries  of  paganism.     Intellectually,  Julian 


JULIAN  THE  APOSTATE.  335 

was  a  remarkable  man  both  in  native  vigor  of  mind  and  in 
rich  mental  culture.  Those  portions  of  his  works  which  have 
descended  to  us  prove  that  he  possessed  talent,  wit,  and  rhe- 
torical ease  and  fluency.  It  seems  as  though  God  allowed  such 
men  to  assail  Christianity,  that  it  might  be  seen  that  the 
religion  of  Jesus  could  triumph  over  the  highest  intelligence 
combined  with  unlimited  despotic  power. 

It  is  recorded  that  Julian  possessed  among  other  mental 
marvels  such  flexibility  of  thought  and  abstract  power  of  at- 
tention, that  he  could  employ  his  hand  to  write,  his  ear  to  listen, 
and  his  voice  to  dictate,  at  one  and  the  same  time.  During  the 
long  winter  evenings,  he  devoted  himself  with  tireless  malignity 
to  writing  a  book  against  Christianity.  This  treatise  left  but 
little  which  modern  unbelief  could  add. 

To  prove  that  paganism  could  make  as  good  men  as  Chris- 
tianity could  make,  Julian  adopted  the  most  austere  morals, 
rigidly  abstaining  from  those  vices  which  characterized  the 
times.  He  despised  the  pomp  of  royalty,  discarded  all  luxu- 
ries, slept  on  the  ground,  and  partook  only  of  the  most  fru- 
gal fare.  Indeed,  he  went  so  far  in  the  spirit  of  eccentricity, 
fanaticism,  and  si^perstition,  as  to  renounce  the  decencies  of 
dress  and  the  lawa  of  cleanliness.  He  deemed  it  an  act  of 
piety  to  be  filthy  in  person,  and  to  allow  vermin  to  devour 
him.  In  one  of  his  letters,  boasting  of  his  superior  piety,  he 
descants  with  pride  upon  the  length  of  his  finger-nails,  the 
dirtiness  of  his  unwashed  hands,  and  the  shagginess  and 
populousuGss  of  his  beard. 

Julian  repaired  and  garnished  the  idol  temples,  and  rein- 
stated pagan  worship  in  the  palace  with  all  conceivable  splen- 
dor. Every  effort  was  made  to  render  idolatry  fashionable 
and  popular  by  gorgeous  parades  and  court  patronage.  The 
emperor  himself  often  officiated  as  a  priest  at  these  polluted 
shrines.  The  churches  were  robbed  of  their  property.  Chris- 
tians were  ejected  from  all  lucrative  and  honorable  offices, 
and  their  places  supplied  by  pagans.  The  Christian  schools 
were  broken  up,  and  the  children  of  Christians  denied  all 
education  save  in  the  schools  of  the  idolaters. 


336  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Jesus  had  predicted  that  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  should  be 
destroyed,  and  should  never  again  be  rebuilt.  Julian  resolved 
to  rebuild  the  temple,  and  thus  prove  Christ  to  be  a  false 
prophet.  He  endeavored  to  arouse  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
Jews  in  the  undertaking,  and  called  upon  the  pagan  and 
Christian  world  to  witness  the  accomplishment  of  the  enterprise. 
Under  these  circumstances,  he  put  forth  all  the  energies  which 
imperial  power  placed  in  his  hands,  and  utterly,  utterly  failed. 

The  fact  stands  forth  as  one  of  the  most  remarkable  in  his- 
tory, avowed  by  Christians,  and  admitted  by  pagans,  that  the 
Roman  emperor  Julian  could  not  rebuild  the  temple  at  Jeru- 
salem. It  is  stated  by  authority  which  no  one  has  been  able 
to  controvert,  that  the  workmen  were  terrified  and  driven  away 
by  phenomena  which  they  certainly  regarded  as  supernatural. 
Even  infidelity  cannot  subvert  the  testimony  which  sustains 
this  narrative.  The  fact  is  recorded  by  Ambrose,  Bishop  of 
Milan,  by  the  eloquent  Chrysostom  of  Antioch,  by  the  re- 
nowned Gregory  Nazianzen,  and  by  the  Roman  historian 
Ammianus  Marcellinus,  who  declares  that  no  one  disputed 
the  fact.     He  writes,  — •' 

"  While  Alphius,  assisted  by  the  governor  of  the  province, 
urged  with  vigor  and  diligence  the  execution  of  the  work 
horrible  balls  of  fire  breaking  out  nea^  the  foundations,  with 
frequent  and  reiterated  attacks,  rendered  the  place  from  time 
to  time  inaccessible  to  the  scorched  and  blasted  workmen ; 
and  the  victorious  element  continuing  in  this  manner,  abso- 
lutely and  resolutely  bent,  as  it  were,  to  drive  them  to  a  dis- 
tance, the  work  was  abandoned." 

The  statement  is  confirmed  by  many  witnesses  without  con- 
tradiction. The  fiercest  storms  beat  upon  the  workmen.  Bolts 
of  lightning  descended,  destroying  the  works.  Earthquakes 
shook  the  foundations,  and  volcanic  flames  burst  up  throi:gh 
the  yawning  crevices.  The  enterprise  thus  commenced  in  an 
impious  spirit  Julian  was  compelled  to  abandon.  A  well- 
read  scholar,  he  knew  that  open  persecution,  imprisonment, 
torture,  and  death  had  utterly  failed  in  arrestintg  the  progress 
of  Christianity.     He  resolved  to  try  the  influence  of  insula 


JULIAN   THE  APOSTATE.  337 

and  contempt.  He  hoped,  by  dooming  tlie  disciples  of  Jesus 
to  ignorance  and  poverty,  to  paralyze  their  energies. 

The  rich  and  powerful  pagans,  as  weD  as  the  low  and  vulgar, 
thus  encouraged  by  the  example  of  the  king  and  the  court, 
began  to  assail  the  Christians  with  new  malignity.  The  dis- 
ciples were  everywhere  insulted,  persecuted,  mobbed.  To  call 
one  a  Christian  became  the  severest  term  of  reproach. 

Then,  as  now,  there  were  vast  multitudes  who  had  no  inde- 
pendent fairh  of  their  own.  These  unthinking  ones  drifted 
along  with  the  popular  current.  Julian  condescended  him- 
self to  write  lampoons  against  Christianity.  In  one  of  these, 
ridiculing  the  Christian  doctrine,  that  any  man  who  repents 
of  sin  and  trusts  in  the  Saviour  may  be  forgiven,  he  repre- 
sents, in  a  satire  entitled  "  The  Caesars,"  his  Christian  uncle, 
the  Emperor  Constantine,  going  on  a  mission  to  the  shades 
of  the  infernals.  There  the  emperor  gathers  around  him  all 
the  foul  fiends  of  the  pit,  and,  addressing  them,  says,  — 

"  Whoever  is  a  profligate,  a  murderer,  a  guilty  man  of  any 
kind,  let  him  come  boldly  to  me  :  I  will  wash  him  in  the 
water  of  baptism,  and  make  him  instantly  pure.  And  should 
you  fall  into  the  same  crime  again,  and  only  beat  your  breast, 
and  say,  *  I  am  sorry,'  you  s?iall  age-in  be  perfectly  holy." 

It  would  be  difficult  anywhere  to  find  a  more  interesting 
illustration  of  the  fact,  that  there  is  often  but  a  hair's  breadth 
between  the  most  debasing  er^or  and  the  most  ennobling  truth. 
The  Christian  doctrine  of  forgiveness  through  repentance,  and 
trust  in  the  atonement,  which  our  Saviour  has  made,  very  nearly 
resembles  this  burlesque  of  the  doctrine  as  uttered  by  Julian ; 
and  yet  one  is  true,  and  the  other  false.  Salvation  through 
faith  in  the  sufferings  and  death  of  Jesus  is  described  by  the 
pen  of  inspiration  as  "  the  mighty  power  of  God  "  for  the 
rademption  of  a  lost  world.  What  is  the  Christian  doctrine 
of  forgiveness  through  faith  in  Jesus  ?     It  is  this  :  — 

Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  has  made  atonement  for  all  sin 
upon  the  cross  of  Calvary.  Whoever  now  will  abandon  sin, 
trust  in  this  Saviour,  and  earnestly  and  prayerfully  commence 
the  Christlike  life,  persevering  to  the  end,  shall  be  forgiven. 


338  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Now,  how  small  is  tLe  verbal  difference  between  this  Chris- 
tian doctrine  of  salvation  through  faith  in  an  atoning  Saviour 
and  Julian'3  gross  perversion  of  that  only  truth  by  which  a 
sinnar  may  be  saved  ! 

Some  may  wonder  how  it  was  possible  for  such  a  man  as 
Julian,  highly  educated,  and  endowed  by  nature  with  great 
intellectual  abilities,  to  advocate  idol  worship.  Tho  following 
extracts  from  a  treatise  of  instructions  which  he  drew  up  for 
the  utje  of  the  pagan  priests  will  show  with  how  much  plau- 
sibility such  a  man  couid  argue  in  support  of  a  bad  cause  t  — 

"  Let  no  one  accuse  us,"  he  says,  "  of  holding  the  gods  to 
be  wood,  stone,  brass.  When  we  look  at  the  images  of  the 
gods,  we  ought  not  to  see  in  them  stone  and  wood,  neither 
ought  we  to  see  the  gods  themselves. 

"  Whoever  loves  the  emperor  is  pleased  with  beholding  his 
image ;  whoever  loves  his  child  delights  in  the  picture  of 
his  child.  So  whoever  loves  the  gods  looks  with  pleasure  on 
their  images,  penetrated  with  awe  towards  those  invisible  beings 
who  look  down  upon  him." 

This  wag  the  subtle  philosophy  of  paganism.  It  was  a 
philosophy  which  the  unlettered  populace  did  not  attempt  to 
comprehend.  The  masses  of  the  people  saw  in  their  gods  but 
wood,  stone,  and  brass.  In  the  worship  of  these  idols,  they 
had  a  religion  which  exerted  no  beneficial  influence  ^pon  the 
morals  or  the  heart.  And  here  reflect  for  a  moment  upon  a 
fact  which  no  intelligent  man  will  call  in  question. 

In  the  whole  history  of  the  world,  not  an  individual  can  be 
found  who  ever  renounced  infidelity,  and  sincerely  embraced 
Christianity,  who  has  not  been  made  a  better  man  by  the 
change;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  not  a  single  instance  can 
be  found  of  one  who  has  renounced  Christianity,  and  embraced 
infidelity,  who  has  not  been  made  a  worse  man  by  the  change. 

The  Bishop  of  Alexandria,  Athanasius,  was  one  of  the  mosi 
illustrious  men  of  his  age.  He  was  profoundly  learned,  a 
zealous  Christian,  an  eloquent  preacher,  and  one  whose  unblem- 
ished virtues  commanded  the  respect  of  all.  His  success  as  a 
preacher  exasperated  Julian  to  the  highest  degree.     Moreover, 


JULIAN   THE  APOSTATE.  339 

he  was  bo  beloved  in  Alexandria  by  his  flock,  and  by  the  whole 
community,  that  it  was  not  easy  to  strike  him  with  the  weapons 
of  persecution.  Even  the  governor  of  Alexandria  hesitated  to 
obey  the  decree  of  the  infuriated  emperor,  and  to  drive  Atha- 
nasius  from  a  people  by  whom  he  was  so  highly  respected  and 
ardently  beloved.  At  length,  the  emperor,  receiving  the  tidings 
of  some  new  conversions  to  Christianity  through  the  eloquence 
of  Athanasius,  in  his  wrath  wrote  to  the  governor  as  fol- 
lows :  — 

"  I  swear  by  the  great  Serapis,  that,  unless  Athanasius  is 
driven  from  Alexandria  before  December,  you  shall  be  severely 
punished.  You  know  my  temper.  The  contempt  which  is 
shown  for  the  gods  in  Alexandria  fills  me  with  indignation. 
There  is  nothing  I  desire  more  than  the  banishment  of  Atha- 
nasius. The  abominable  wretch !  Through  his  preaching 
several  Grecian  ladies  of  high  rank  have  become  Christians, 
and  have  been  baptized." 

Athanasius  was  banished.  After  the  death  of  Julian,  he 
returned.  This  good  old  man,  having  attained  the  age  of 
eighty  years,  died  in  the  year  393.  His  life  was  one  of  the 
most  eventful  in  the  history  of  the  Church.  Kobly  he  fought 
the  battle,  and  passed  from  the  stern  conflict  to  the  victor's 
crown. 

"  Athanasius  is  one  of  the  greatest  men  of  whom  the  Church 
can  boast.  His  deep  mind,  his  noble  heart,  his  invincible 
courage,  his  living  faith,  his  unbounded  benevolence,  sincere 
humility,  lofty  eloquence,  and  strictly  virtuous  life,  gained  the 
honor  and  love  of  all."  ^ 

Julian  had  been  thoroughly  instructed  in  Christianity.  He 
had  been  nominally  a  Christian.  He  had  deliberately  aposta- 
tised from  the  faith,  with  the  determination  to  reinstate  pagan- 
ism. He  consecrated  all  the  resources  of  his  brilliant  mind  to 
invest  paganism  with  some  of  the  intellectual  grace  and  dig- 
nity of  Christianity.  To  rescue  paganism  from  the  contempt 
into  which  it  had  fallen,  he  endeavored  to  introduce  into 
ihe  idol  worship  some  of  the  moral   elements  which  he  had 

1  Encyclop»dia  AtriPricana. 


I 


340  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

■ 
purloined  from  the  teachings  of  Jesus.     In  one  of  the  attacks 
of    this  envenomed   foe    upon   Christianity,  he    unwittingly 
uttered  the  nohlest  eulogy  upon  the  early.  Christians. 

"  As  children,"  he  wrote,  "  are  coaxed  with  cake,  so  hav« 
these  Christians  enticed  the  poor  to  join  them  hy  kindness. 
Strangers  they  have  secured  by  hospitality.  By  affecting 
brotherly  love,  great  moral  purity,  and  honoring  their  dead, 
they  have  won  the  multitude." 

This  is  a  beautiful  tribute  to  the  character  of  the  early  dis- 
ciples of  our  Saviour  from  the  pen  of  a  foe.  Julian  gave  th® 
idolatrous  priests  the  excellent  advice,  to  endeavor  to  win  the 
people  back  to  the  pagan  shrines  by  the  same  measures.  He 
difstributed  large  sums  of  money  among  the  priests  to  aid  them 
in  their  work.  In  his  earnest  appeal  to  them,  he  says  that;  the 
pagan  poor  obtained  no  assistance  from  their  own  people  ;  while 
the  Christians  support  all  of  their  own  poor,  and  assist  also 
many  of  those  who  worship  the  gods. 

The  idols  were  reinstated,  with  great  ceremonial  pomp,  in 
temples  from  which  they  had  disappeared.  The  unstable  popu- 
lace, ever  swinging  to  and  fro,  and  naturally  inclined  to  a 
religion  which  demanded  no  holiness  either  of  heart  or  life, 
drifted  over  in  large  numbers  to  the  pagan  party.  In  one 
of  Julian's  appeals  in  behalf  of  the  gods,  he  wrote,  — 

"  I  am  a  worshipper  of  the  God  of  Abraham,  who  is  a  great 
and  mighty  God.  You  Christians  do  not  foUow  Abraham : 
you  erect  no  altars  to  his  God,  neither  do  you  worship  him  as 
Abraham  did  with  sacrifices." 

Julian  was  perfectly  willing  to  place  the  statue  of  Jehovah, 
as  one  of  the  gods,  by  the  side  of  Jupiter  and  Bacchus  and 
Diana  and  Venus.  In  his  zeal  against  Christianity,  he  endsav- 
ored  to  revive  ancient  Judaism.  He  had  invited  the  Jews  to 
co-operate  with  him  in  his  unavailing  attempt  to  rebuild  the 
temple  at  Jerusalem.  He  even  stooped  to  ignoble  trickery, 
that  he  might  put  a  moral  compulsion  upon  the  Christians  to 
do  homage  to  the  .idols. 

The  emperor's  statue  stood  in  all  public  places.  It  was  cus- 
tomary for  every  one,  in  passing,  to  bow  to  it  as  to  the  emperor. 


JULIAN  THE  APOSTATE.  341 

Julian  placed  by  the  side  of  his  statue,  in  closest  proximity, 
several  statues  of  the  gods.  Thus  no  one  could  respectfully 
bow  the  head  to  the  image  of  the  emperor  without  apparently 
doing  homage  to  the  idols.  Not  to  bow  to  the  statue  of  the 
emperor  was  a  penal  offence.  Thus,  and  in  many  other  ways 
too  numerous  to  mention,  Julian  the  apostate  endeavored  to 
reinstate  paganism. 

But  all  the  artifice  and  imperial  power  of  Julian  could  not 
restore  a  religion  which  had  no  elevated  doctrines  of  theology, 
no  ennobling  principles  of  morality,  which  presented  no  lofty 
motives  of  action,  and  which  unfolded  no  realms  of  a  glorious 
immortality  beyond  the  grave. 

It  is  a  necessity  of  man's  nature  that  Christianity  should 
finally  triumph ;  for  the  religion  of  Jesus  alone  meets  and  sat- 
isfies the  deepest  yearnings  of  the  human  soul :  it  inspires 
to  purity  of  life  and  to  noblti  deeds  as  nothing  else  conceivable 
can  inspire  ;  it  irradiates  the  realms  beyond  the  grave  with 
light  and  love  and  eternal  joy ;  it  is  indeed  good  news,  —  glad 
tiidings  to  all  people. 

Many  attempts  have  been  made  to  build  up  Christian  vir- 
tues without  Christian  principles.  All  such  efforts  have  failed. 
Human  passion  is  so  strong  in  its  bias  to  sin,  that  it  can  be 
restrained  by  no  power  less  potent  than  the  gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ.  The  doctrine  of  the  cross,  though  to  the  Jew  a  stum- 
bling-block and  to  the  Greek  foolishness,  is,  to  them  that  are 
saved,  the  wisdom  of  God  and  the  power  of  God. 

Every  year.  Julian  grew  more  inveterate  and  malignant  in 
his  hostility  to  Christianity.  The  city  of  Antioch,  in  Syria, 
was  the  capital  of  Asia  Minor.  Paul  had  long  and  success- 
fully preached  the  gospel  in  that  city ;  and,  under  the  Emperor 
Constantine,  every  vestige  of  paganism  had  disappeared  f"rom 
its  temples  and  its  streets.  Julian  made  strenuous  efforts  to 
re-establish  pagan  rites  in  Antioch.  He  reared  an  idol  temple 
m  the  vicinity  of  a  Christian  burying-ground,  and  then  ordered 
the  bodies  of  the  Christiana  to  be  removed  from  their  graves, 
as  polluting  the  soil  which  the  idol  temple  rendered  sacred  to 
the  pagan  gods. 


342  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

The  Christians  met  to  transfer,  in  solemn  procession,  the 
remains  of  their  honored  dead  to  another  burial-place.  With 
united  voice  they  chanted  the  ninety-seventh  Psalm,  which 
calls  upon  the  heathen  deities  to  prostrate  themselves  before  the 
majesty  of  Jehovah  :  — 

"  The  Lord  reigneth :  let  the  earth  rejoice  ; 
Let  the  multitude  of  the  isles  be  glad  thereof. 
CJonfounded  be  all  they  that  serve  graven  images, 
That  boast  themselves  of  idols. 
Worship  him,  all  ye  gods." 

Julian,  in  his  exasperation,  caused  the  arrest  of  several  of 
the  most  prominent  of  these  Christians,  and  sentenced  them  to 
the  severest  punishments.  One  young  man,  Theodosius,  was 
subjected  to  the  utmost  extremity  of  torture.  He  bore  the 
agony  with  such  fortitude  as  to  excite  the  admiration  of  the 
p-igans. 

While  Julian  was  thus  breathing  threatenings  and  slaughter 
against  the  Church,  he  was  summoned  to  the  frontiers  of 
Persia,  where  a  terrible  invasion  was  menacing  the  empire. 
Persia  had  gradually  risen  into  a  military  power  which  threat- 
ened to  assume  independence. 

The  country  between  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris,  called 
Mesopotamia,  or  between  the  rivers,  consisted  of  a  region 
about  five  hundred  miles  long  and  fifty  wide.  It  was  an 
exceedingly  fertile  plain.  The  inhabitants  called  themselves 
Assyrians.  Being  wealthy  and  numerous,  and  far  distant  from 
the  central  power  of  Eome,  they  had  not  only  raised  the  ban- 
ner of  revolt  against  the  empire,  but  had  sent  large  armies 
across  the  Euphrates,  which  ravaged  the  adjacent  provinces, 
and  returned  enriched  with  plunder  and  slaves. 

To  bring  these  Assyrians  again  into  subjection  to  the  Roman 
power,  Julian  commenced  a  campaign  against  them.  He  took 
with  him  sixty-five  thousand  veteran  Roman  soldiers  and  a 
vast  body  of  Scythian  auxiliaries  and  roving  Arabs.  Eleven 
hundred  barges  crowded  the  Euphrates,  to  float  down  the 
stream  the  emperor's  ponderous  engines  of  war  and  his  military 
supplies. 


JULIAN  THE  APOSTATE.  343 

These  boats,  flat-bottomed,  were  easily  converted  into  pon- 
toon-bridges. As  this  immense  army  crossed  the  Euphrates, 
and  entered  Assyria,  Julian  gathered  the  whole  body  around 
him,  and,  with  the  most  imposing  rites  of  pagan  religion,  offered 
sacrifices  to  the  pagan  gods,  appealing  to  them  for  aid  in  his 
enterprise.  The  appeal,  for  a  time,  seemed  not  to  be  in  vain. 
Signal  success  accomjjanied  his  arms.  City  after  city  fell 
before  the  terrible  power  of  the  Roman  legions.  The  trail  of 
the  victorious  army  was  marked  by  smouldering  ruins  and 
blood. 

Maogamalclr.a  was  one  of  the  most  important  cities  of  this 
Assyrian  realm.  The  wolfish  Roman  legions  burst  through 
the  gates.  Every  conceivable  outrage  was  inflicted  upon  the 
wretched  inhabitants,  and  then  they  were  consigned  to  indis- 
criminate massacre.  The  governor  of  the  city  was  burned  alive. 
There  were  in  the  suburbs  three  palaces,  enriched  with  every 
thing  which  could  minister  to  the  pride  of  an  Eastern  monarch. 
Palaces,  gardens,  parks,  statuary,  paintings,  — all  were  reduced 
to  utter  ruin. 

The  devastation  of  a  palace  creates  much  emotion ;  but  it 
is  the  burning  of  the  cottage,  of  which  history  takes  such  little 
notice,  which  fills  the  world  with  weeping  and  woe.  Julian 
became  such  a  terror  to  this  whole  region,  that  the  painters  of 
the  nation  represented  him  as  a  lion  vomiting  fire.  And  yet 
this  same  man  seemed  to  have  his  appetites  and  passions  under 
perfect  control :  he  was  quite  free  from  many  of  those  vices 
which  degrade  humanity ;  he  shared  all  the  hardships  of  the 
soldiers,  often  traversing  with  them,  on  foot,  the  burning 
plains. 

But  ere  long  the  heathen  gods,  whose  aid  he  had  im- 
plored, and  upon  whom  he  had  relied,  seemed  to  abandon 
him.  He  was  led  to  adopt  the  most  insane  measures,  which 
could  only  result  in  his  ruin.  Troubles  gathered  thickly 
around  him.  He  became  so  harassed  with  anxiety,  that  he 
could  not  sleep.  One  night,  in  troubled  dreams,  or  in  a  revery, 
an  angel  appeared  before  him  weeping,  and  covered  with  a 
ftinereal  veil. 


344  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

The  superstitious  monarch,  affrighted,  rushed  from  his  tent 
It  was  midnight.  The  camp  was  silent.  The  stars  of  Meso« 
potamia  shone  down  sadly  upon  the  apostate.  Suddenly  a 
brilliant  meteor  shot  athwart  the  sky.  To  the  superstitious 
pagan  it  was  a  menace  from  the  god  of  war,  indicating 
defeat. 

At  break  of  day  the  trumpets  suddenly  sounded,  summoning 
the  soldiers  to  repel  an  attack  from  the  foe  springing  by  sur- 
prise upon  them.  It  was  a  sultry  summer's  morning :  not  a 
breath  of  air  mitigated  the  overpowering  heat.  Julian,  as  he 
rushed  to  the  field,  laid  aside  his  cuirass.  A  cloud  of  arrows 
and  javelins  fell  upon  him.  A  barbed  javelin,  lined  with  sharp 
inlaid  blades  of  steel,  grazed  his  arm,  pierced  his  ribs,  and, 
with  its  keen  point,  penetrated  deeply  the  liver  of  the  monarch. 
Frantic  with  pain,  Julian  seized  the  weapon,  and  endeavored  to 
wrench  it  out.  In  the  attempt,  his  hands  were  severely  lacer- 
ated by  the  blades.  Bleeding,  fainting,  he  fell  senseless  to  the 
ground. 

His  guards  bore  his  inanimate  body  from  the  tumult  of  the 
battle  to  a  neighboring  t'3nt.  It  was  some  time  before  he 
awoke  to  consciousness.  The  blood  was  gushing  from  the 
wound.  It  "v/as  evident  to  Julian,  and  to  all  others,  that  he 
must  soon  die.  Grasping  a  handful  of  the  crimson  gore,  he 
flung  it  madly  toward  the  heavens,  as  if  conscious  that  Jesus 
was  reigning  there,  and  exclaimed,  "  0  Galilean  1  thou  hast 
conquered." 

The  current  of  life  was  now  fast  ebbing,  and  death  was 
manifestly  near  at  hand.  The  wretched  Julian  made  a  fain't 
attempt  to  rally  to  his  support  his  pagan  philosophy. 

'*  I  have  lived,"  he  said,  "  without  any  sin.  I  am  not  afraid 
ti  die.  My  soul  is  now  to  be  absorbed  into  the  ethereal  sub- 
8tanc»  of  the  universe." 

Thus  he  died.  At  midnight,  the  spirit  of  Julian  the  apos- 
tate ascended  to  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ.  This  sad  record 
suggests  a  few  obvious  thoughts,  to  which  we  cannot  refrain 
from  directing  the  attention  of  our  readers  :  — 

1.  The  experience  of  eighteen  centuries  seems  to  prove  that 


JULIAN   THE   APOSTATE.  345 

the  final  triumph  of  Christianity  is  certain.  Every  weapoi. 
raised  against  Christianity  has  failed.  Argument  has  exhausted 
its  most  profound  eflForts.  Persecution  has  in  vain  expended  all 
its  energies  of  torture,  dungeons,  flames,  and  death.  Though 
there  are  men  now  who  hate  the  religion  of  Jesus,  who  oppose 
it  in  every  possible  way,  — some  by  direct  hostility,  and  some  by 
neglect,  —  still  Christianity  was  never  before  so  potent  as  now. 
Never  before  has  it  exerted  so  controlling  an  influence  over  th« 
hearts  and  lives  of  men.  Its  power  has  steadily  increased  with 
the  lapsing  centuries. 

2.  It  is  obvious  that  the  triumph  of  Christianity  will  not  be 
a  triumph  in  which  all  the  enemies  of  Christianity  will  become 
its  friends :  its  persistent  enemies  will  perish.  Satan  may 
never  be  converted ;  but  he  wiU  be  held  in  chains.  Julian 
died  hurling  defiance  at  Jesus  Christ :  he  may  forever  re- 
main thus  obdurate ;  but  he  will  never  again  have  it  in  his 
power  to  persecute  the  Christians.  Julian  is  immortal :  he  is 
as  free  now  to  love  or  hate  as  he  was  fourteen  centuries  ago. 
God  never  robs  his  inteDigent  creatures  of  the  freedom  of  the 
will.  But  those  who  remain  unrelenting  can  never  be  per- 
mitted to  mar,  by  their  malice,  the  joys  of  heaven. 

3.  There  are  in  this  world,  probably  in  the  wide  universe  of 
God,  but  two  parties, — those  who  are  the  friends  of  Christ, 
and  those  who  are  not  his  friends.  To  this  solemn  truth  we 
must  ever  come.  "  He  that  is  not  with  me  is  against  me,"  ^ 
says  Christ.  One's  love  for  Christ  may  not  be  fully  developed ; 
one's  rejection  of  Christ  may  exist  in  a  latent  state  :  but  the 
germs  of  love  or  rejection  are  in  every  soul ;  every  one  is  in 
heart  eitlier  with  Constantine  or  Julian. 

4.  Death  is  to  all  alike  the  same  sublime  event.  There  i« 
something  awful  in  the  death  of  Julian.  The  tumult  and  the 
uproar  of  the  battle  rage  around  him  ;  the  blood  gushes  from 
his  lacerated  veins.  But  death  itself  is  an  event  so  sublime,  that 
all  its  surroundings  are  of  but  little  moment.  It  is  the  ore 
thing,  the  one  only  thing,  of  which  every  person  is  sure.  JSo 
matter  when,  where,  or  how,  death  comes :   to  leave  this  world 

1  Matt.  xii.  30. 


346  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

forever ;  to  go  to  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ ;  to  hear  the  sen- 
tence, "Welcome,  ye  blessed  I"  or  "Depart,  ye  cursed  1"  and 
then  to  enter  upon  eternity,  a  happy  spirit  in  hearen,  or  a  lost 
spirit  in  hell,  —  this  is  an  event  so  transcendently  sublime, 
that  its  accidental  accompaniments  are  scarcely  worthy  of  a 
thought. 


CHAPTER    XVin. 


THE    IMMEDIATE    SUCCESSORS    OF   JULIAN. 


Anecdote.  —  Accession  of  Jovian.  —  His  Character.  —  Ciiristianlty  reinstated. — 
Deatli  of  Jovian.  —  Recall  of  Athanasius. —  Wide  Condemnation  of  Arianism,— 
Heroism  of  Jovian.  —  Valentinian  and  Valena.  —  Valentinian  enthroned.— 
Valens  in  the  East.  —  Barbarian  Irruptions.  — Reign  of  Theodosius.— Aspect 
of  the  Barbarians.  —  Rome  captured  by  Alaric.  —  Character  of  Alaric.  —  His 
Death  and  Burial.  —Remarkable  Statement  of  Adolphus.  —  Attila  the  Hua.  — 
Valentinian  III.  — Acadius.  —  Eloquence  of  Chrysostom.  —  His  BanlabmeHi 
and  Death.  —  Rise  of  Monasticism. 


N  reference  to  the  death  of  Julian,  an  anecdote  ie 
related  which  has  been  deemed  sufficiently  authen- 
tic to  be  quoted  in  most  ecclesiastical  histories. 
At  the  very  hour  when  Julian  was  dying  in 
Mesopotamia,  a  pagan  scomer,  a  thousand  miles 
distant,  in  Antio<h,  banteringly  inquired  of  a 
Christian,  alluding  to  Jesus  Christ,  '-What  do 
you  think  the  carpenter's  son  is  doing  now  ?  " 

The  Christian,  as  if  prophetically  witnessing  tne  dying 
scene  upon  the  Tigris,  solemnly  replied,  "Jesus  the  bon  of 
God,  whom  you  scoffingly  call  the  carpenter's  son,  is  just  r:  ^- 
making  a  coffin.*' 

After  a  few  days,  the  tidings  of  Julian's  death  reached  Anti- 
och.  The  coincidence  produced  a  powerful  impression,  and 
was  regarded  as  a  supernatural  revelation.  The  death  of 
Julian  filled  the  hearts  of  pagans  with  dismay,  and  elated  the 
Christians  with  gratitude  and  hope.  The  remains  of  Julian 
were  hastily  embalmed,  to  be  transported  to  the  shores  of  the 

347 


348  BISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Mediterranean  ;  and  his  arm}-,  having  been  utterh-  routed, 
comrDeneed  a  precipitate  retreat.  Famine  devoured  them  ; 
pestilence  consumed  them  ;  the  arrows  and  javelins  of  their 
triumphant,  pursuing  assailants  strewed  with  gor}-  corpses 
the  path  along  which  the}'  fled.  In  the  midst  of  this  din  of 
arms  and  these  scenes  of  dismay,  a  few  voices  nominated 
Jovian,  an  officer  of  the  imperial  guard,  as  emperor. 

Jovian  was  not  merel}'  nominallj^  a  Christian,  but  probably 
in  heart  a  true  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ.  He  was  a  man  alike 
majestic  in  character  and  stature.  When  thus  nominated  to 
assume  the  supreme  command,  he  said,  sadh', 

"I  cannot  command  idolaters.  I  am  a  Christian.  The 
displeasure  of  God  is  even  now  falling  upon  us  as  an  arm}^ 
of  his  enemies." 

When  ti'oubles  come,  nearly  all  men  are  disposed  to  look 
to  God  for  aid.  The  whole  army  was  at  that  time  in  immi- 
nent peril  of  annihilation  from  famine,  pestilence,  and  the 
sword.  The  officers  in  a  body  gathered  around  Jovian,  and 
earnestly  entreated  him  to  accept  the  crown. 

"We  will  all,"  they  said,  "be  Christians.  The  reign  of 
idolatry  has  been  too  short  to  efface  the  teachings  of  the  good 
Constantine.  Lead  us  and  we  will  return  to  the  worship  of 
the  true  God." 

This  noble  young  man  was  but  thirty-two  3ears  of  age.  He 
had  alread}-  given  proof  of  remarkable  courage,  not  only  upon 
the  field  of  battle,  but  in  braving  the  wrath  of  Julian  by  re- 
fusing to  bow  down  to  idols.  Jovian,  having  accepted  the 
perilous  office  of  emperor,  soon  succeeded  iu  entering  into  a 
treaty  of  peace  with  the  Persians,  and  in  thus  extricating 
the  army  from  otherwise  inevitable  ruin. 

It  is  refreshing  to  a  spirit  weary  of  the  corruptions  of  man- 
kind to  contemplate  the  sincerity  and  honesty  with  which  this 
extraordinary  man  conducted  the  most  important  affairs.  For 
seven  months  the  army  was  on  its  march,  of  fifteen  hundred 
miles,  from  the  Euphrates  to  Antioch.  Jovian  maintained  the 
principles  of  true  toleration  :  all  men  were  allowed  to  worship 
as  they  pleased.     The  disastrous  career  of  Julian  had  led  to 


THE  IMMEDIATE  SUCCESSORS   OF  JULIAN.  349 

B  general  distrust  of  the  heatlien  gods  ;  and  the  ii.oral  influence 
ol  a  Christian  emperor,  operating  in  a  thousand  ways,  in- 
creased the  disposition  of  the  soldiers  to  dbandon  the  idols,  and 
to  return  to  Christianity.  Paganism  had  met  with  but  a  tran- 
sient revival.  Now,  like  a  hideous  dream  of  the  night,  it  w&s 
passing  away,  to  be  revived  no  more  forever.  The  sign  of  the; 
cross,  which  Julian  had  effaced,  was  replaced  upon  the  Roman 
banners. 

The  Arian  controversy  continued  to  agitate  the  Church. 
Arius  had  declared  the  Son  to  be,  not  the  equal  of  the  Father, 
but  the  first-born  and  highest  in  rank  of  all  created  beings. 
The  Council  of  Nice,  with  almost  perfect  unanimity,  had 
declared  the  doctrine  of  Arius  to  be  new,  unscriptural,  and  a 
dangerous  heresy.  Jovian  adhered  to  the  ancient  faith  as  pro- 
nounced by  the  Council  of  Nice.  He  recalled  the  bishops  who 
had  been  banished  by  Julian,  and  restored  the  church  property 
which  had  been  confiscated. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Athanasius,  the  renovsmed  Bishop 
of  Alexandria,  had  been  driven  into  exile  by  Julian,  because, 
througli  his  preaching,  some  Grecian  ladies  of  n'^ble  birth 
had  been  converted  and  baptized.  Jovian  recalled  the  faithful 
Christian  pastor  by  the  following  letter,  which  he  published  to 
the  world  :  — 

**  To  the  most  religious  friend  of  God,  Athanasius.  As  we 
admire  beyond  expression  the  sanctity  of  your  life,  in  which 
shine  forth  marks  of  resemblance  to  the  God  of  the  universe, 
and  your  zeal  for  Jesus  Christ  our  Saviour,  we  take  you,  ven- 
erable bishop,  under  our  protection.  You  deserve  it  by  the 
courage  you  have  shown  in  the  most  painful  labors  and  cruel 
persecutions.  Return  to  the  churches  ;  feed  the  people  of  Goa ; 
offer  prayers  for  us ;  for  we  are  persuaded  that  God  will  bestow 
upon  us,  and  upon  our  fellow-Christians,  his  signal  favors,  if 
you  afford  us  the  assistance  of  your  prayers." 

The  city  of  Alexandria,  in  Egypt,  had  been  one  of  the 
strongholds  of  paganism.  The  pagan  priests  had  represented 
to  Julian  that  the  presence  of  Athanasius  in  Alexandria 
rendered  all  their  magic  arts  unavailing ;    that  his  preaching 


S50  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

was  causing  the  temples  of  tlie  gods  to  be  abandoned  in  the  city 
and  throughout  all  Egypt ;  and  that,  unless  he  were  silenced, 
there  would  soon  be  left  no  worshippers  of  the  gods.  Atha- 
nasius,  upon  his  restoration  to  his  church  in  Alexandria,  wrote 
a  letter  of  thanks  to  Jovian,  in  which  he  says,  — 

"  Ee  it  known  to  you,  emperor,  beloved  of  God,  that  the  doc- 
trine established  by  the  Council  of  I^ice  is  preached  in  all  the 
churches,  —  in  those  of  Spain,  of  Britain,  of  Gaixl ;  in  all 
those  of  Italy,  of  Campania,  of  Dalmatia,  of  Mysia,  of  Mace- 
donia, and  of  all  Greece ;  in  all  those  of  Africa,  of  Sardinia, 
of  Cyprus,  of  Crete,  of  Pamphylia,  of  Lycia,  of  Isauria;  in 
all  those  of  Egypt,  of  Libya,  of  Pontus,  of  Cappadocia,  and  of 
the  neighboring  countries ;  and  those  of  the  East,  excepting 
a  few  there  who  follow  the  opinions  of  Arius.  We  know  the 
faith  of  the  churches  by  the  effects  produced;  and  we  have 
received  letters  fiom  them.  The  small  number  of  those  who 
are  hostile  to  this  faith  is  scarcely  worthy  of  consideration  in 
opposition  to  the  sentiment  of  the  entire  Christian  world." ' 

This  's  very  striking  testimony  to  the  almost  universal  assent 
of  the  Church  in  that  day  to  the  equality  of  the  Son  with  the 
Father.  "  The  Council  of  Nice,"  writes  Athanasius,  "  has  not 
said  mei«^ly  that  the  Son  is  like  the  Father,  or  like  God,  but 
that  he  is  God,  and  the  true  God.  It  says  that  he  is  consub- 
stantial  with  the  Father.  And  the  bishops  have  not  separated 
the  Holy  Spirit  as  a  stranger  from  the  Father  and  the  Son  ;  but 
they  have  glorified  him  with  the  Father  and  the  Son,  because 
the  Holy  Trinity  has  but  one  and  the  same  divinity."  "■' 

Gregory,  Bishop  of  Nazianzen,  wrote  a  very  interesting  cir- 
cular letter  to  aU  Christians,  giving  them  truly  Christian  coun- 
sel as  to  the  course  they  should  pursue  in  the  new  and  almost 
miraculous  change  in  their  affairs. 

"  Let  us  show  our  gratitude  to  God,"  he  writes,  "  by  purity 
of  soul,  by  inward  peace,  by  holy  thoughts,  and  a  spiritual  life. 
Le^,  us  not  avenge  ourselves  upon  the  pagans,  but  win  them  by 
oui  gentleness  and  love.     Let  him  who  has  suffered  most  from 

'  Histoire  du  Christianisme,  par  l'Abb6  Fleury,  livre  quinzifeme.  8.  lill. 
•  Theod.  Iv.  o.  2.  3. 


TEE  IMMEDIATE  SUCCESSORS  OF  JULIAN.  351 

the  pagans  refer  them  to  the  judgment  of  God.  Let  us  not 
think  of  confiscating  their  goods,  of  dragging  them  before  the 
tribunals,  or  of  inflicting  upon  them  any  of  the  woes  which 
they  have  inflicted  upon  us.  Let  us  render  them  more  humane, 
if  it  be  possible,  by  our  example."  ^ 

The  army  had  passed  by  Tarsus,  the  birthplace  of  Paul,  where 
the  remains  of  Julian  were  consigned  to  the  tomb,  and  had 
reached  the  village  of  Dadastane,  on  the  confines  of  Galatia 
and  Bithynia,  when  Jovian  died,  in  the  night  of  the  17th  of 
February,  364,  within  about  three  hundred  miles  of  Constanti- 
nople. He  was  found  one  morning  dead  in  his  bed ;  having 
been  accidentally  stifled,  it  is  supposed,  by  the  fumes  of  char- 
coal in  his  apartment.  His  broken-hearted  wife,  who  was 
hastening  to  greet  her  husband,  met  his  remains  on  the  road. 
With  the  anguish  and  tears  of  widowhood,  bitter  then  as  now, 
she  accompanied  them  to  the  tomb  in  Constantinople.  He 
was  but  thirty-three  years  of  age,  and  had  reigned  but  eight 
months.  The  main  body  of  the  army,  being  a  little  in  advance, 
had  then  reached  Nice,  the  capital  of  Bithynia.  As  soon  as 
the  soldiers  heard  of  the  death  of  Jovian,  they  unanimously 
elected  Valentinian,  who  was  captain  of  the  imperial  guard,  his 
successor.  Valentinian  was  also  a  Christian.  The  following 
anecdote  illustrates  the  nobility  of  his  character :  — 

It  was  the  custom  of  Julian  on  special  occasions  to  distrib- 
ute gifts  to  those  who  had  merited  them'.  The  apostate  em- 
peror, who  would  stoop  to  every  kind  of  trickery  to  lure  the 
soldiers,  even  unconsciously,  to  pay  homage  to  the  idol  gods, 
on  one  of  these  occasions,  when  about  to  bestow  rewards,  had 
an  altar  erected  before  him,  xipon  which  were  placed  glowing 
coals.  By  the  side  of  the  altar  stood  a  table  covered  with 
frankincense. 

As  a  part  of  the  ceremony,  each  one  who  was  to  receive  an 
imperial  gift  was  to  sprinkle  a  little  of  the  incense  upon  the 
coals,  from  which  a  fragrant  cloud  would  gracefully  arise.  It 
was  a  stratagem  to  lead  the  Christians  to  offer  incense  to  the 
gods,  without  being  conscious  that  they  were  doing  so.     Julian 

»  Hiatoire  dii  Christianisnie,  par  I'Abbe  Fleury,  1. 1,  p.  639. 


852  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

thus  endeavored  to  entrap  three  of  his  leading  Christian  gen- 
eraJs, — Jovian  (who  became  his  successor),  Valeutinian,  and 
Valens. 

After  burning  the  frankincense,  and  receiving  the  imperial 
gift,  Valentinian  returned  to  his  tent.  As  he  sat  down  to  partake 
of  some  refreshments,  he,  according  to  his  custom,  asked  a 
blecsing  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ.  A  pagan  companion, 
observing  this,  exclaimed,  with  real  or  aifected  astonishment,  — 

"  How  is  this  ?  Do  you  invoke  the  name  of  Christ  after 
having  publicly  renounced  him  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  inquired  Valentinian,  alarmed  and 
surprised. 

"  I  mean,"  was  the  reply,  "  that  you  have  just  offered  incense 
to  the  gods  upon  one  of  their  altars." 

Valentinian  immediately  rose,  and,  hastening  to  the  presence 
of  the  emperor,  laid  down  at  his  feet  the  precious  gifts  he  had 
received,  saying,  — 

"  Sire,  I  am  a  Christian.  I  wish  all  the  world  to  know  it. 
1  have  not  intentionally  renounced  my  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ. 
If  my  hand  has  erred,  my  heart  has  not  followed  it :  the  em- 
peror has  deceived  me.  I  renounce  the  act  of  impiety,  and  am 
ready  to  make  expiation  with  my  blood." 

Jovian,  and  Valentinian's  brother  Valens,  did  the  same  with 
their  gifts.  The  emperor  was  exasperated.  In  the  first  im- 
pulse of  his  rage,  he  ordered  them  to  be  led  immediately  to  exe- 
cution. As  the  executioner  stood  ready  with  his  heavy  sword 
to  sever  their  heads  from  their  bodies,  and  the  victims  were 
upon  their  knees  to  receive  the  death-blow,  a  herald  hastily 
approached,  and  arrested  the  execution.  The  emperor,  upon 
reflection,  deemed  it  not  wise  for  such  an  offence  to  consign 
to  death  three  of  the  best  and  most  influential  officers  in  hia 
army. 

Another  characteristic  anecdote  is  related  of  Valentinian, 
worthy  of  record.  He  was  commander  of  the  imperial  guard. 
As  such,  it  was  necessary  for  him,  upon  all  important  occasions, 
to  be  at  the  side  of  the  emperor.  At  one  time,  when  Julian,  in 
performance  of  some  rites  of  the  pagan  religion,  was  enter- 


THE  IMMEDIATE  SUCCESSORS  OF  JULIAN.  353 

iog  the  Temple  of  the  Goddess  of  Fortune,  dancing  in  religiouf» 
homage,  two  priests  stood,  one  on  each  side  of  the  vestibule,  tc 
sprinkle  the  emperor  with  holy-water.  This  was  a  pagan  rite 
which  the  Papal  Church  has  transferred  from  the  temples  of 
idolatry  to  the  sanctuaries  of  Christ. 

A  drop  of  this  water  fell  upon  the  dress  of  Valentinian. 
Turning  to  one  of  the  priests,  he  said,  "  You  have  suUied  my 
garments."  Immediately  he  tore  from  his  robe  the  portion 
upon  which  the  water  consecrated  to  idols  had  fallen. 

The  emperor  was  so  irritated,  that  for  a  time  he  banished 
him  from  his  command.  It  is  said  that  Julian  would  not  put 
him  to  death,  because,  with  strange  inconsistency,  he  was  un- 
willing tiiat  he  should  wear  the  crown  of  martyrdom.  Such 
was  the  character  of  the  Christian  Valentinian,  upon  whose 
shoulders  the  robes  of  imperial  purple  were  now  placed. 

Valentinian  seems  to  ht^ve  proved  himself,  in  all  respects, 
worthy  of  his  high  position.  He  was  majestic  in  staturs,  com- 
manding in  intellect,  and  of  irreproachable  purity  of  morals. 
He  was  crowned  by  the  army  at  Nice,  in  Bithynia ;  his  brother 
Valens  receiving  from  him  the  appointment  of  assistant  em- 
peror. The  Eastern  empire,  from  the  Danube  to  the  confines 
of  Persia,  was  assigned  to  Valens,  with  Constantinople  for  hie 
capital.  Valentinian  took  charge  of  the  Western  empire,  select- 
ing the  city  of  Milan  for  his  metropolis. 

Still  the  barbarian  hordes  from  all  directions  were  crowding 
upon  the  crumbling  Roman  empire.  While  Valentinian  was 
struggling  against  their  locust  legions  in  the  West,  Valens 
was  making  an  equally  desperate  and  equally  unavailing 
struggle  against  them  in  the  East.^  The  Huns  came  howling 
on  from  the  wilds  of  Tartary,  fierce  as  the  wolves,  and  in 
numbers  which  no  man  could  count.  They  could  not  be  re- 
sisted. In  an  impetuous  flood  they  surged  along,  till  all  the 
plains  of  Greece  were  swept  by  the  inundation.  Even  th« 
Goths  fled  in  terror  before  these  shaggy  and  merciless  war- 
riors. 

Valens  entered  into  an  alliance  with  the  Goths,  hoping  by 
their  aid  to  resist  the  still  more  dreaded  Huns.     He  allowed 


354  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

his  barbarian  allies  to  take  possession  of  all  the  waste  lands 
of  Thrace.  Availing  themselves  of  this  advantageous  base 
of  operations,  the  treacherous  Goths  ravaged  the  whole  coun- 
try to  the  shores  of  the  Adriatic,  menacing  even  Italy  with 
their  arms.  They  laid  siege  to  both  the  cities  of  Adrianople 
and  Constantinople.  Terror  reigned  everywhere.  Tears  and 
blood,  through  man's  demoniac  ferocity,  deluged  this  whole 
world.  In  an  awful  battle  before  the  walls  of  Adrianople,  the 
army  of  Valens  was  cut  to  piecss.  Valens  himself  perished 
upon  the  bloody  field.  How  little  can  we  imagine,  seated  by 
our  peaceful  firesides,  the  dimensions  of  that  wail  of  misery 
ascending  from  a  whole  army  perishLiig  beneath  the  sabres 
and  the  battle-axes  of  merciless  barbarians !  This  is  indeed 
a  lost  world.  Surely  history  proves  that  man  is  a  depraved 
animal.  How  happy  might  this  world  have  been  had  man 
been  the  friend,  instead  of  the  foe,  of  his  brother-man ! 

For  twelve  years  Valentinian  wac  engaged  in  almost  an  in- 
cessant battle.  The  Picts  and  Scots  were  rushing  down  upon 
Britain  from  the  mountains  of  Caledonia.  AH  along  the 
Khine  and  the  Danube,  tribes  of  uncouth  names  and  habits 
were  desolating,  in  plundering  bands,  every  unprotected  region. 
Worn  down  with  care,  toil,  and  sorrow,  Valentinian  feU  a 
victim  to  a  sudden  attack  of  apoplexy  in  the  year  375,  in  the 
fifty-fourth  year  of  his  age. 

Valentinian  had  a  son,  Gratian,  who,  at  the  time  of  his 
father's  death,  was  but  seventeen  years  old.  He  succeeded  his 
father  on  the  throne  of  the  Western  empire,  without  inheriting 
either  his  virtues  or  his  energy.  Eetiring  to  Paris,  the  boy- 
emperor  surrendered  himself  to  voluptuous  indulgence.  Dis- 
content created  an  insurrection,  which  was  led  by  Maximus, 
Governor  of  Britain.  Gratian,  abandoned  by  his  troops,  fled 
to  Lyons,  where  he  was  overtaken  and  slain. 

A  Christian  general  by  the  name  of  Theodosius  had  suc- 
ceeded Valens  in  the  East.  Difficulties  had  arisen  between 
Theodosius  and  Maximus.  War  ensued.  Maximus  was  slain. 
Valentinian,  a  mere  boy,  younger  brother  of  Gratian,  was 
placed  upon  the  throne  of  the  Western  empire.     The  jKwr  child 


THE  IMMEDIATE  SUCCESSORS  OF  JULIAN.  355 

was  almost  immediately  assassinated.  Theodosius  marched 
to  tlie  West  to  avenge  liis  death,  and  assumed  the  government 
of  the  whole  united  empire  of  the  East  and  of  the  West.  But 
he  was  a  sick  man,  and  the  hand  of  death  was  already  upon 
him  :  in  less  than  four  months  he  breathed  his  last  at  Milan. 

Theodosius  was  a  zealous  Christian :  in  character  he  was 
one  of  the  purest  of  men,  and  was  earnestly  devoted  to  the  wel- 
fare of  his  realms ;  but  his  reign  was  sullied  by  intolerance,  — 
doubtless  conscientious,  but  none  the  less  bigoted.  He  issued 
severe  edicts  against  those  Christians  who  swerved  from  the 
established  faith  as  enunciated  by  the  Council  of  Nice.  He 
unrelentingly  demolished  or  closed  all  the  temples  of  paganism. 
He  instituted  that  ofl&ce  of  inquisitors  of  the  faith,  which, 
revived  in  subsequent  centuries,  became  the  fruitful  source  of 
80  much  crime  and  woe. 

It  was  indeed  a  dark  day,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  379, 
when  Theodosius  ascended  the  throne.  There  was  no  stable 
government  anywhere,  \io  protection  from  violence.  The 
Roman  power,  which,  oppressive  as  it  had  been,  was  far  better 
than  anarchy,  was  now  but  a  crumbling  ruin,  which  no  humaii 
energy  or  skill  could  rebuild. 

As  W9  look  back  through  the  gloomy  centuries  upon  these 
dim,  tumultu  ;us  scenes,  a  new  vision  of  appalling  grandeur 
f ises  before  tJie  eye.  Alaric  —  the  world-renowned  Alaric  the 
Goth  —  appears  in  the  arena  at  the  head  of  his  fierce  legions. 
Like  gaunt  and  famished  beasts  of  prey,  his  savage  hordes 
Bwept  over  Greece,  entered  Italy,  and  besieged  Milan.  These 
barbarians  were  a  short,  chunky,  broad-shouldered  race  of 
men,  of  herculean  strength.  A  contemporary  writer  thus 
describes  their  general  aspect :  — 

"  Their  high  cheek-bones,  and  small,  twinkling  eyes,  gave 
them  a  savage  and  cruel  expression,  which  was  increased  by 
their  want  of  nose  ;  for  the  only  visible  appearance  of  that 
organ  consisted  of  two  holes  sunk  in  the  square  expanse  ot 
their  faces:" 

Onward,  ever  onward,  rolled  this  flood  of  hideous  and  pitiless 
foes.     While  this  inundation  was  sweeping  along  from  the 


356  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

East,  another  similar  flood  came  surging  down  from  the  North  • 
the  two  torrents,  blending,  eddied  around  the  walls  of  Rome. 
For  six  hundred  years  the  city  of  Rome  had  not  been  insulted 
by  the  presence  of  a  foreign  foe. 

Theodosius  was  the  child  of  Christian  parents.  At  the  com- 
mencement of  his  reign,  he  was  but  nominally  a  Christian ; 
that  is,  he  was  not  a  pagan,  but  had  intellectually  given  his 
assent  to  the  religion  of  Jesus.  He  had  not,  however,  at  that 
time,  publicly  united  with  the  Church.  The  perils  which  were 
menacing  the  State,  and  a  severe  fit  of  sickness  with  which 
he  was  seized  at  Thessalonica,  seem  to  have  led  him  to  feel 
the  necessity  of  personal  religion.  The  emperor  sent  for 
Ascole,  the  pastor  of  the  church  in  Thessalonica,  and,  having 
ascertained  that  he  cordially  accepted  the  doctrines  of  the 
Council  of  Nice,  received  from  him  the  rits  of  baptism,  aao 
thus  enrolled  himself  among  the  disciples  of  Jesus.  Notwith- 
standing the  faults  of  the  Christian  Emperor  Theodosius,  — 
faults  to  be  attributed  to  the  times  rather  than  to  the  individ- 
ual, —  history  has  pronounced  him  one  of  the  purest  and  noblest 
monarchs  who  ever  occupied  a  throne. 

Upon  the  death  of  Theodosius  at  Milan,  the  empire  was 
divided  between  his  two  sons :  Arcadius  was  crowned  in  the 
East,  Honorius  in  the  West.  The  Eastern  ei.,;uire  embracef^ 
Thrace,  Greece,  Asia  Minor,  Syria,  and  Egypt ;  the  Westert 
empire  inclu  ied  Italy,  Africa,  Gaul,  Spain,  Biitain,  and  the 
Danubian  provinces.  The  Western  empire  was  now  much  the 
weaker.  Rome  had  ceased  to  be  the  metropolis,  and  enjoyed 
only  the  renown  of  its  former  greatness.  Milan  had  become 
the  new  capital. 

Alaric,  with  his  fierce  legions,  after  a  short  siege  of  Milan, 
was  driven  back.  The  timid  Honorius  was  so  alarmed  by  the 
invasion,  that,  with  his  court,  he  retired  from  Milan  to  Ravenna, 
Alaric,  at  the  head  of  a  hundred  thousand  men,  contemptuous- 
ly passing  by  Ravenna,  commenced  the  siege  of  Rome.  The 
walls  surrounding  the  city  still  remained  in  their  massive 
strength.  Famine  compelled  the  citizens  to  purchase  a  tem- 
porary peace  at  the  price  of  the  pavment  of  a  vast  sum  of 


TEE  IMMEDIATE  SUCCESSORS  OF  JULIAN:  357 

mone}',  and  the  surrender  of  many  of  the  leading  citizens  as 
hostages. 

When  the  delegation  from  the  Eoman  senate,  with  the  offer 
to  surrender,  was  introduced  to  Alaric,  the  members  of  the 
delegation  ventured  to  state  rather  menacingly,  that,  if  Alaric 
refused  them  honorable  terms,  he  would  rouse  against  him 
an  innumerable  people  animated  b\'  despair.  Alaric  replied 
with  a  scornful  laugh, — 

''The  thicker  the  grass,  the  easier  it  is  mown." 

He  then  assigned  the  only  terms  upon  which  he  would  re- 
tire. He  demanded  all  the  gold  and  silver  in  the  city,  whether 
it  were  the  property  of  the  State  or  of  individuals  ;  then  all 
the  rich  and  precious  movables  ;  then  all  the  slaves  who  had 
been  captured  from  the  barbarians. 

"If  such,  O  king!  are  your  demands,"  the  ministers  re- 
plied, "what  do  you  intend  to  leave  to  us?" 

"  Your  lives,"  the  conqueror  haughtily  replied.  Still  Alaric 
somewhat  abated  the  rigor  of  these  demands. 

There  is  but  little  reliance  to  be  placed  in  barbarian  faith. 
Alaric  and  his  fierce  hordes  were  soon  again  encamped  before 
the  walls  of  the  imperial  city.  There  were  forty  thousand 
slaves  (white  slaves),  the  victims  of  Roman  rapacity,  within 
the  walls.  They  conspired  with  the  invaders.  At  midnight 
there  was  a  servile  insurrection  :  the  gates  were  thrown  open, 
and  the  clangor  of  rushing  barbarians  resounded  through  the 
streets. 

It  is  not  in  the  power  of  human  imagination  to  conceive  the 
horrors  of  a  city  sacked  at  midnight, — a  city  of  more  than  a 
million  of  inhabitants,  men,  women,  and  children,  at  the  mercy 
of  a  savage  foe.'  The  slaves  were  glad  of  a  chance  to  avenge 
the  wrongs  of  ages.  They  were  of  the  same  race  with  their 
masters.  The  hour  of  vengeance  had  tolled.  The  Romans 
had  thoroughly  instructed  tliem  and  their  barbarian  confed- 
erates in  all  the  arts  of  cruelty  and  lust.  God  alone  can  com- 
prehend the  scenes  which  were  enacted  during  that  awful  night. 

'  Gibbon,  after  a  careful  calculation,  estimates  the  number  of  inhabitants  at 
a  million  two  hundred  thousand. 


S58  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

• 
Tlie  most  venerable  and  costly  memorials  of  the  paat  were 
surrendered  to  conflagration  :  large  portions  of  the  citj  were 
consumed. 

For  six  days  the  Goths  held  the  metropolis ;  then,  reeling 
in  intoxication,  encumbered  with  spoil,  and  dragging  after 
them  their  captives,  — the  young  men  to  groom  their  horses; 
the  maidens,  daughters  of  Roman  sena.tors  and  nobles,  to  fill 
their  harems,  —  they  rioted  along  the  Appian  Way,  and  surged 
over  all  Southern  Italy,  giving  loose  to  every  depraved  desire. 

It  is  thus  that  God  punishes  guilty  nations.  Though  sen- 
tence against  an  evil  work  may  not  be  cpeedily  executed,  the 
hour  of  recompense  is  sure  to  come.  For  four  years  the  whole 
of  the  south  of  Italy  was  subject  to  the  barbarians.  Roman  phi- 
losophers had  long  argued  that  it  was  right  for  the  strong3r 
nations  to  enslave  the  weaker.  The  Goths  •vere  now  the 
stronger,  and  the  Romans  the  weaker ;  and  the  Romans  were 
compelled  to  drain  to  the  dregs  the  cup  which  their  own  handa 
had  mingled. 

Men  of  senatorial  dignity,  and  matrons  of  iU"8triou8  birth, 
became  the  menial  servants  of  half-naked  savages.  These 
burly  barbarians  stretched  their  hairy  limbs  beneath  the  shad-a 
of  palm-trees ;  and  young  men  and  maidens  born  in  palaces 
washed  their  feet,  and  presented  them  Falernian  wine  in  golden 
goblets. 

While  Alaric  was  thus  ravaging  Italy,  the  Emperor  Honoriua 
was  ignominiously  besieged  behind  the  walls  of  Ravenna.  The 
old  Roman  empire  had  so  far  crumbled  away,  that  Italy  done 
remained  even  nominally  subject  to  the  emperor.  Even  la-ge 
portions  of  Italy  were  in  the  hands  of  the  foe.  Persia,  Egypt, 
Turkey,  Germany,  France,  Spain,  England,  all  overrun  by 
barbarians,  became  the  cradles  of  those  monarchies  which  are 
flourishing  or  decaying  in  those  regions  at  the  prsseat  day. 

Alaric  the  Goth  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  of  men. 
His  native  ferocity  was  strangely  mitigated  by  profound  lespect 
for  Christianity.  Many  of  the  Gothic  soldiers  had  also,  at  least 
nominally,  adopted  the  Christian  faith.  When  Roma  was 
taken  by  storm,  Alaric  exhorted  hia   solaie'^s  tt  respect  th« 


TEE  IMMEDIATE  SUCCESSORS  OF  JULIAN.  359 

churches  as  inviolable  sanctuaries.  A  Goth  burst  into  the 
house  of  an  aged  woman  who  had  devoted  herself  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Church.  Upon  his  demanding  her  gold  and  silver, 
she  conducted  him  to  a  closet  of  massive  plate. 

"  These/'  said  she,  "  are  consecrited  vessels  belonging  to  the 
Church  of  St.  Peter,  If  you  touch  them,  the  sacrilegious  deed 
will  remain  upon  your  conscience." 

The  barbarian  was  overawed,  and  cent  a  messenger  to  inform 
the  king  of  the  treasure  he  had  discovered.  Alaric  sent  an 
order  that  the  sacred  vessels  should  be  immediately  transported, 
under  guard,  to  the  church  of  the  apostle. 

"  From  the  extremity,  perhaps,  of  the  Quirinal  Hill  to  the 
distant  quarters  of  the  Vatican,  a  numerous  detachment  of 
Goths,  marching  in  order  of  battle  through  the  principal  streets, 
protected  with  glittering  arms  the  long  train  of  their  devout 
companions,  who  bore  aloft  on  their  heads  the  sacred  vessels 
of  gold  and  silver ;  and  the  martial  shouts  of  the  barbarians 
were  mingled  with  the  sound  of  religious  psalmody."  ^ 

Augustine,  in  his  celebrated  work  entitled  "The  City  of 
God,"  refers  with  much  gratification  to  this  memorable  inter- 
position of  God  in  behalf  of  his  Church.  Alaric  died  just  as 
he  was  entering  upon  an  expedition  for  the  conquest  of  Syria, 
having  been  in  possession  of  Italy  for  four  years. 

"  The  ferocious  character  of  the  barbarians,"  writes  Gibbon, 
"  was  displayed  in  the  funeral  of  a  hero  whose  valor  and  for- 
tune they  celebrated  with  mournful  applause.  By  the  labor 
of  a  captive  multitude,  they  forcibly  diverted  the  course  of 
the  "Busentius,  a  small  river  that  washes  the  walls  of  Con- 
sentia.  The  royal  sepulchre,  adorned  with  the  splendid  spoils 
and  trophies  of  Rome,  was  constructed  in  the  vacant  bed. 
The  waters  were  then  returned  to  their  natural  channel ;  and 
the  secrat  spot  where  the  remains  of  Alaric  had  been  deposited 
was  forever  concealed  by  the  inhuman  massacre  of  the  prison- 
ers who  had  been  employed  to  execute  the  work." 

Adolphus,  brother-in-law  of  Alaric,  succeeded,  by  the  vote  of 
the  Gothic  army,  to  the  supreme  com;  ^and.     He  was  also  a 

1  aibbon. 


360  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

remarkable  man.  His  intelligence  and  moral  worth  may  b* 
infeiTed  from  the  follow?  ing  remarks  which  he  made  to  a  citi- 
zen of  Narhonne.  The  conversation  was  related  by  this  citizen 
to  St.  Jerome,  in  the  presence  of  the  historian  Orosius. 

"  In  the  full  confidence  of  valor  and  victory,"  said  Adolphus, 
"  I  once  aspired  to  change  the  face  of  the  universe ;  to  oblit- 
erate the  name  of  Rome ;  to  erect  on  its  ruins  the  dominion 
of  the  Goths ;  and  to  acquire,  like  Augustus,  the  immortal 
fame  of  the  founder  of  a  new  empire.  By  repeated  experi- 
ments, I  was  gradually  convinced  that  laws  are  essentially 
necessary  to  maintain  and  regulate  a  well-constituted  State, 
and  that  the  fierce,  intractable  humor  of  the  Goths  was  incapa- 
ble of  bearing  the  salutary  yoke  of  laws  and  civil  government. 
From  that  moment  I  proposed  to  myself  a  dijEFerent  object  of 
glory  and  ambition  ;  and  it  is  now  my  sincere  wish  that  the 
gratitude  of  future  ages  should  acknowledge  the  merit  of  a 
stranger  who  employed  the  sword  of  the  Goth,  not  to  subvert, 
but  to  restore  and  maintain,  the  prosperity  of  the  Roman 
empire." 

In  accordance  with  these  views,  Adolphus  opened  negotia- 
tions with  Honorius,  the  Roman  emperor,  who  was  besieged  at 
Ravenna.  He  entered  into  an  alliance  with  him  to  assist  in 
driving  out  the  barbarians  who  were  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Alps.  He  even  sought  and  obtained  in  marriage  Placidia,  a 
Christian  lady,  the  daughter  of  Theodosius,  and  sister  of  Hono- 
rius. This  illustrious  woman,  whose  adventurous  life  we  can- 
not here  record,  had  been  highly  educated  at  Constantinople. 
The  bride  was  young  and  lovely:  the  bridegroom  was  also 
remarkable  for  dignity  of  bearing  and  manly  beauty.  Thus 
the  daughter  of  the  decaying  house  of  Rome  was  wedded  tc 
the  chieftain  of  a  new  dynasty  just  emerging  into  fame  ana 
power. 

The  nuptials  were  conducted  with  great  splendor  st  Nar- 
bonne,  in  Gaul.  Fifty  beautiful  boys  in  silken  robes  pre- 
eented  the  bride  each  two  vases,  •—  one  filled  with  golden  coin, 
and  the  other  with  j|jrecious  gems.  Even  these  treasures  formed 
but    a  very  inconsiderable    portion   of  the    gifts  which  were 


THE  IMMEDIATE  SUCCESSORS  OF  JULIAN.  363 

lavished  upon  Placidia.  Adolphus,  assuming  the  chars-cter  of 
a  Roman  general,  marched  irom  Italy  int)  G".ul.  DriviD.g  out 
the  barbarians  thjre,  he  to-k  possession  of  the  whole  country, 
from  the  ocean  to  thd  Mediterranean.  Here  Adolphus  ere 
long  died,  and  Placidia  returned  to  her  brother  Honorius  r^t 
Ravenna.  After  an  inglorious  reign  of  twenty-eight  years, 
the  timid  and  imbecile  Honorius  died  at  Ravenna.  His  secre- 
tary, John,  seized  the  falling  sceptre.  Another  party  advocated 
the  claims  of  the  son  of  the  emperor's  widowed  sister  Placidia, 
a  child  of  but  six  years.  John  was  beheaded.  The  boy,  as 
Valentinian  III.,  was  declared  emperor.  Placidia  was  appointed 
regent. 

Attila  the  Hun,  whose  devastations  have  procured  for  him 
the  designation  of  "  the  Scourge  of  God,"  now  appears  promi- 
nent upon  the  scene.  At  the  head  of  half  a  million  of  men,  he 
swept  over  Gaul  and  Italy,  creating  misery  which  no  tongue 
can  adequately  tell  :  it  would  seem  that  humanity  could 
scarcely  have  survived  such  billows  of  unutterable  woe.  Ail 
Venetia  was  ravaged  with  unsparing  slaughter.  A  portion  of 
the  wretched  inhabitants,  flying  in  terror  before  Attila,  escaped 
to  a  number  of  marshy  islands,  but  a  few  feet  abo^'e  the  water, 
at  the  extremity  of  the  Adriatic  Sea.  Here  they  laid  the  foun- 
dations of  Venice,  the  "  Queen  of  the  Adriatic,"  —  that  city  of 
the  sea,  which  subsequently  almost  outvied  Rome  in  opulence, 
power,  and  splendor,  and  whose  magnificence,  even  in  decay, 
attracts  tourists  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  "  The  grass  never 
grows,*'  said  this  demoniac  warrior,  "  where  my  horse  has  once 
placed  his  hoof." 

Valentinian  III.,  having  attained  early  manhood,  developed 
an  exceedingly  profligate  character.  The  Eastern  and  West- 
em  empires  were  now  permanently  divided,  never  again  to  be 
united.  Arcadius  was  emperor  at  Constantinople.  Kings  gen- 
erally contrive  to  live  in  splendor,  whatever  may  be  the  poverty 
of  their  subjects.  St.  Chrysostom,  in  one  of  his  sermons, 
speaks  reproachfully  of  the  splendor  in  which  Arcadius  in- 
dulged. 

"  The  emperor,"  says  he,  "  wears  on  his  head  either  a  diadem 


362  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

or  a  crown  of  gold,  decorated  with  precious  stones  of  inestimable 
value.  These  ornaments  and  his  purple  garments  are  reserved 
for  his  sacred  person  alone.  His  robes  of  silk  are  embroidered 
with  the  figures  of  golden  dragons.  His  throne  is  of  massive 
gold.  Whenever  he  appears  in  public,  he  is  surrounded  by 
his  courtiers,  his  guards,  and  his  attendants.  Their  spears, 
their  shields,  their  cuirasses,  the  bridles  and  trappings  of  theii 
horses,  have  either  the  substance  or  the  appearance  of  gold. 

"  The  two  mules  that  draw  the  chariot  of  the  monarch  are 
perfectly  white,  and  shining  all  over  with  gold.  The  chariot, 
itself  of  pure  and  solid  gold,  attracts  the  admiration  of  the 
spectators,  who  contemplate  the  purple  curtains,  the  snowy 
carpet,  the  size  of  the  precious  stones,  and  the  resplendent 
plates  of  gold,  which  glitter  as  they  are  agitated  by  the  motion 
of  the  carriage." 

St.  Chrysostom,  from  whose  works  the  above  extracts  are 
taken,  was  one  of  the  most  distinguished  ecclesiastics  and 
preachers  of  that  day.  He  had  been  pastor  of  the  church  in 
AjQtioch,  where,  in  substitution  of  his  true  name  of  John,  he  had 
by  his  eloquence  acquired  the  epithet  of  Chrysostom,  or  "  the 
Golden  Mouth."  His  renown  secured  for  him  the  unanimous 
call  of  the  court,  the  clergy,  and  the  people,  to  the  archbishopric 
of  Constantinople. 

Chrysostom  was  of  noble  birth,  of  ardent  piety,  highly  edu- 
cated, and  was  one  of  the  most  attractive  and  powerful  of  pul- 
pit orators.  He  had  been  educated  for  the  law.  Becoming  a 
Christian,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  gospel  ministry.  He  lived 
humbly,  devoting  the  revenues  of  the  bishopric  to  objects  of 
benevolence.  His  eloquent  discourses,  couched  in  copious  and 
elegant  language,  and  enlivened  by  an  inexhaustible  fund 
of  illustrations,  drew  crowds  even  from  the  theatre  and  the 
circus.  Nearly  a  thousand  of  his  sermons  are  preserved.  They 
witness  to  his  "  happy  art  of  engaging  the  passions  in  the  ser- 
vice of  virtue,  and  of  exposing  the  folly  as  well  as  the  turpitude 
of  vice  almost  with  the  truth  and  spirit  of-  dramatic  represen- 
tation." ^ 

«  Gibboa 


THE  IMMEDIATE  SUCCESSORS  OF  JULIAN.  363 

From  the  pulpit  of  St.  Sophia  in  Constantinople,  Chrysostom, 
with  the  boldness  of  one  of  the  ancient  prophets,  thundered 
forth  his  anathemas  against  the  corruptions  of  the  times.  He 
spared  neither  the  court  nor  the  people.  A  conspiracy  was 
formed  against  him,  in  which  some  of  the  unworthy  clergy,  irn- 
tated  by  his  denunciations,  united.  Theophilus,  Archbishop  of 
Alexandria,  led  the  clerical  party.  Eudoxia,  the  dicaolute  wife 
of  the  Emperor  Arcadius,  exasperated  by  the  rumor  that  the 
audacious  preacher  had  reviled  her  under  the  name  of  Jezebel, 
arrayed  the  court  influence  against  him.  He  was  finally  ban- 
ished to  the  extreme  border  of  the  Euxine  or  Black  Sea.  The 
infuriate  queen  doomed  the  Christian  bishop  tc  exile  to  Cucu- 
8us,  a  dreary  and  far-distant  town  among  the  defiles  of  the 
Caucasian  Mountains. 

"A  secret  hope  was  entertained,"  writes  Gibbon,  "that  fhir 
archbishop  might  perish  in  a  difficult  and  dangerous  march 
of  seventy  days,  in  the  heat  of  summer,  through  the  p::ovincee 
of  Asia  Minor,  where  he  was  continually  threatened  by  the 
hostile  attacks  of  the  Isaurians.  Yet  Chrysostom  arrived  in 
safety  at  the  place  of  his  confinement ;  and  the  three  year.3 
which  he  spent  at  Cucusus  were  the  last  and  most  glorious  ci 
his  life. 

"  His  character  was  consecrated  by  absence  and  persecution. 
The  faults  of  his  administration  were  no  longer  remembered : 
every  tongue  repeated  the  praises  of  his  genius  and  virtue ;  and 
the  respectful  attention  of  the  Christian  j^crid  was  f.xed  on  a 
desert  spot  among  the  mountains  of  Taurus. 

"  From  that  solitude,  the  archbishop,  whose  active  mind  was 
invigorated  by  misfortunes,  maintained  a  strict  and  freqxient 
correspondence  with  the  most  distant  provinces  ;  exhcrte?  r.hs 
separate  congregation  of  his  faithful  adherents  to  per^ever*^  iii 
their  allegiance ;  extended  his  pastoral  care  to  the  missions  of 
Persia  and  Scythia;  negotiated,  by  his  ambassadors,  vith  the 
Roman  pontiff  and  the  Emperor  Honorius;  and  boldly  appealed 
from  a  partial  synod  to  the  supreme  tribunal  of  a  free  and  gen- 
eral council.  The  mind  of  the  illustrious  exile  was  still  inde- 
pendent ;  but  his  captive  body  was  exposed  to  all  the  revenge 


364  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

of  his  oppressors,  who  continued  to  abuse  the  name  and  author- 
ity of  Arcadius. 

''An  order  was  despatched  for  the  instant  removal  of  Chrys- 
ostom  to  the  extreme  Desert  of  Pityus.  His  guard  so  faithfully 
o^  (eyed  their  cruel  instructions,  that,  before  he  reached  the  sea- 
coast  of  the  Euxine,  he  expired  at  Comana,  in  Pontus,  in  the 
sisty-thiri  year  of  his  age."  ^ 

Exhausted  by  the  long  journey  on  foot,  with  his  head  un- 
covered in  the  burning  heat  of  the  sun,  he  joyfully  welcomed 
the  approach  of  death.  Clothing  himself  in  white  robes,  as  in 
a  bridal  garment,  he  partook  of  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
Supper;  offered  a  fervent  prayer,  which  he  closed  with  the  cus- 
tomary words,  "  Praise  be  to  God  for  all  things  ! "  and  sweetly 
fail  asleep  in  Jesus.  His  remains  were  first  entombed  in  the 
c'lapel  of  the  martyr  St.  Basil.  After  slumbering  there  thirty 
years,  they  were  transported,  with  every  demonstration  of  re- 
spect, to  Constantinople.  The  Emperor  Theodosius,  then  upon 
the  throne,  advanced  as  far  as  Chalcedon  to  meet  them.  Pall- 
ing prostrate  upon  the  coffin,  he  implored,  in  the  name  of  his 
guilty  parents  Arcadius  and  Eudoxia,  the  forgiveness  of  the 
wrongs  which  the  Christian  bishop  had  received  at  their  hands. 
At  a  later  period,  the  remains  of  Chrysostom  were  removed  to 
the  Vatican,  at  Rome,  where  they  now  repose. 

Over  two  hundred  of  the  letters  which  Chrysostom  wrote 
during  his  exile  are  stiU  extant.  They  all  breathe  a  remark- 
able spirit  of  cheerful  trust  in  the  promise  that  "  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God."  ^ 

The  terrible  persecutions  to  which  the  Christians  had  been 
exposed  had  driven  many  into  the  wilderness,  where  they 
sought  refage  amidst  rocks  and  caves.  The  fearful  social  cor- 
nptions  of  the  times  also  led  some  to  flee  from  temptations  too 
strong  -^or  flesh  and  blood  to  bear.  The  hut  of  the  hermit  and 
the  cCil  of  the  monk  gradually  expanded  into  the  massive 
and  battlemented  monastery,  where  considerable  communities 
took  refuge.  Though  these  institutions  gradually  degenerated, 
K  almost  every  thing  human  does,  they  were  in  their  origin  a 

1  Gibbon,  chap,  xxxli.  *  Rom.  viil.  28. 


THE  IMMEDIATE  SUCCESSORS  OF  JULIAN.  365 

necessity.  Clirysostom,  in  the  earlier  periods  of  his  Christian 
life,  had  resided  for  some  time  with  the  anchorites  who  had 
sought  a  retreat  in  the  mountains  near  Antioch. 

One  can  scarcely  conceive  of  a  more  melancholy  spectacle 
of  national  wretchedness  than  Italy  now  exhibited.  Attila  the 
Hun  had  trampled  beneath  the  feet  of  his  impetuous  legions 
nearly  all  opi^osition.  This  extraordinary  man  is  described 
by  his  contemporaries  as  possessing  the  coarse  features  of  a 
modern  Calmuck.  His  head  was  large  and  bushy,  with  an 
abundance  of  hair ;  his  complexion  was  swarthy ;  with  deep- 
seated  eyes,  a  flat  nose,  and  a  few  straggling  hairs  for  a  beard. 
Broad  shoulders,  and  a  short,  stout  body,  gave  indication  of 
immense  muscular  strength.  His  bearing  was  excessively 
haughty ;  and  he  had  the  habit  of  wildly  rolling  his  eyes,  as  if 
he  wished  to  enjoy  the  terror  which  he  could  thus  inspire. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 


THE    FIFTH    CENTUBT. 


Christianity  the  only  Poislble  Religion.  —  Adventures  of  Placldla.  —Her  Marrlaj;* 
with  Adolphus  the  Goth.  — Scenes  of  Violence  and  Crime.- Atlila  the  Hun.— 
Nuptials  of  Idaho.  — Eudoxia  and  her  Fate.  — Triumph  of  Odoacer  the  Goth.— 
Character  of  the  Roman  Nobles.- Conquests  of  Theodoric.  —  John  ChryBostom, 
—  The  Origin  of  Monasticism.  — Augustine. —His  Dissipation,  Conversion,  an4 
Christian  Career.  —  His  "  Confessions." 


"^^ 


HE  fifth  century  dawned  luridly  upon  our  sad 
world.  There  was  no  stable  government  any- 
where. The  Roman  empire,  which,  oppressive 
as  it  had  often  been,  was  far  better  than  anarchy, 
had  now  become  but  a  crumbling  ruin,  whieh 
no  human  energy  or  skill  could  rebuild.  The 
attempt  by  Julian  the  Apostate  to  reinstate 
paganism  had  proved  so  utter  and  humiliating  a  failure,  that 
there  was  no  possibility  of  the  undertaking  being  ever  again 
repeated. 

There  can  be  but  one  religion  which  an  enlightened  world 
will  accept ;  and  that  is  Christianity.  If  Christianity  is  re- 
nounced, the  world  will  never  adopt  any  substitute  which  has 
yet  been  proposed.  The  superstitions  of  barbarians  are  sll  too 
senseless  to  be  thought  of  for  a  moment.  Though  there  was 
a  political  party  in  the  Roman  empire  who  rallied  around 
Julian,  even  many  of  his  partisans  regarded  his  efforts  to  rein- 
state paganism  with  ridicule  and  contempt.  The  wits  of  the 
day  lampooned  him  mercilessly. 

Honorius,  Emperor  of  the  West,  after  a  disastrous  reign  of 
3«a; 


THE  FIFTH  CENTURY.  367 

twenty-eight  years,  died  in  the  year  423.  Weary  scenes  of 
anarchy  and  bloodshed  ensued,  which  we  have  no  space  to 
describe.  Placidia,  a  Christian  princess,  daughter  of  the  great 
Theodosius,  had  been  carried  away  captive  by  the  Goths.  The 
splendor  of  her  birth,  her  marvellous  personal  beauty,  and  the 
elegance  of  her  manners,  won  universal  admiration.  The  young 
Gothic  king  Adolphus,  who  was  a  man  of  unusual  grace  both 
of  person  and  mind,  won  the  hand  and  heart  of  his  captive. 
The  nuptials  were  attended  with  great  splendor  at  Narbonne, 
as  we  have  mentioned  in  the  previous  chapter. 

"  The  bride,"  writes  Gibbon,  "  attired  and  adorned  like  a 
Roman  empress,  was  placed  on  a  throne  of  state ;  and  the 
king  of  the  Goths,  who  assumed  on  this  occasion  the  Roman 
habit,  contented  himself  with  a  less  honorable  seat  by  her  side. 
The  nuptial  gift,  which,  according  to  the  custom  of  his  nation, 
was  offered  to  Placidia,  consisted  of  the  rare  and  magnificent 
spoils  of  her  country.  The  barbarians  enjoyed  the  insolence 
of  their  triumph ;  and  the  provincials  rejoiced  in  this  alliance, 
which  tempered  by  the  mild  influence  of  love  and  reason  the 
fierce  spirit  of  their  Gothic  lord."  ^ 

The  love  of  Adolphus  for  his  beautiful  bride  was  not  abated 
by  time  or  possession.  A  year  passed,  when  they  rejoiced  in 
the  birth  of  a  son,  whom  they  named  Theodosius,  after  his  illus- 
trious grandfather.  The  death  of  this  child  in  his  infancy 
caused  great  grief  to  his  parents.  He  was  buried  in  a  silver 
coflfin  in  one  of  the  churches  near  Barcelona.  Soon  after  this, 
Adolphus  was  assassinated  in  his  palace,  at  Barcelona,  by  one 
of  his  followers, — rSarus.  Singeric,  the  brother  of  Sarus,  seized 
the  Gothic  throne.  He  immediately  murdered  the  six  children 
of  Adolphus,  the  issue  of  a  former  marriage.  Placidia  was 
treated  with  the  most  cruel  and  wanton  insult.  The  daugh- 
ter of  the  renowned  Emperor  Theodosius  was  driven  on  foot, 
amidst  a  crowd  of  vulgar  captives,  twelve  miles,  before  the 
horse  of  a  barbarian  who  had  murdered  her  husband. 

Singeric  enjoyed  his  elevation  but  seven  days,  when  assassi- 
nation terminated  his  earthly  being.    Wallia,  who  by  the  suf- 

1  Vol.  Iv.  p.  84. 


368  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

frages  of  the  Goths  succeeded  to  the  throne,  restored  Placidia 
to  her  brother  Honorius.  The  reign  of  the  barbarians  in 
Gaul,  with  their  wars  and  their  plunderings,  caused  for  a  time 
the  ruin  of  those  once  opulent  provinces. 

Attila  the  Hun,  to  whom  we  have  alluded,  with  an  innumera- 
ble horde  of  the  ferocious  warriors,  invaded  Italy,  everywhere 
perpetrating  atrocious  acts  of  cruelty.  The  barbarians  mass, 
cred  their  prisoners,  inflicting  upon  them  inhuman  tortures,  ap 
parently  from  the  mere  love  of  cruelty.  Two  hundred  beauti 
ful  young  maidens  were  exposed  to  every  cruelty  which  sa.vage 
ingenuity  could  devise.  Their  bodies  were  torn  asunder  by 
wild  horses,  and  their  mutilated  limbs  left  unburied.  Attila 
overran  the  rich  plains  of  Lombardy,  and  established  him- 
self in  the  palace  of  Milan.  The  senate  of  Kome,  terror- 
stricken,  sent  an  embassage  to  implore  peace  of  the  barbarian. 
Attila  demanded  the  Princess  Honoria,  daughter  of  the  Em- 
peror Valentinian,  for  his  bride,  and  one-half  of  the  kingdom  of 
Italy  as  her  dowry.  While  negotiations  were  pending,  and 
Honoria  was  trembling  in  anticipation  of  her  dreadful  doom, 
the  fierce  Hun  ravaged  large  portions  of  Gaul  and  Italy  at  the 
head  of  half  a  million  of  warriors  as  fierce  and  merciless  aa 
wolves. 

The  victorious  Hun  retired  to  the  wilds  of  the  North  to  re- 
plenish his  diminished  hordes,  threatening  to  return  and  inflict 
still  more  signal  vengeance,  unless  the  bride  he  demanded,  and 
the  dowry  claimed  with  her,  were  immediately  granted  him.  In 
the  mean  time,  he  added  to  his  harem  of  innumerable  wives  a 
beautiful  maiden  named  Idaho. 

"  Their  marriage,"  writes  Gibbon,  "  was  celebrated  with  bar- 
barian pomp  and  festivity  at  his  wooden  palace  beyond  the 
iJanube ;  and  the  monarch,  oppressed  with  wine  and  sleep,  re- 
tired at  a  late  hour  from  the  banquet  to  the  nuptial-couch.  Hia 
attendants  continued  to  respect  his  pleasures  or  his  repose  the 
greater  part  of  the  ensuing  day,  till  the  unusual  silence  alarmed 
their  fears  and  suspicions ;  and,  after  attempting  to  awaken 
Attila  by  loud  and  repeated  cries,  they  at  length  broke  into  the 
royal  apartment.     They  found  the  trembling  bride  sitting  by 


THE  FIFTH  CENTURY.  369 

the  bidside,  hiding  her  face  with  her  veil,  and  lamenting  her 
own  danger,  as  well  as  the  death  of  the  king,  who  had  expired 
during  the  night.  An  artery  had  suddenly  burst ;  and,  as  At- 
«ila  lay  in  a  supine  posture,  he  was  suffocated  by  a  torrent  of 
blood,  which,  instead  of  finding  a  passage  through  the  nostrils, 
re-jargitated  into  the  lungs  and  stomach.  His  body  was  sol- 
emnly exposed  in  the  midst  of  the  plain  under  a  silken  pavil- 
ion ;  and  the  chosen  squadrons  of  the  Huns,  wheeling  around 
in  mdasured  evolutions,  chanted  a  funeral-song  in  memory  of 
a  hero  glorious  in  his  life,  invincible  in  his  death,  the  father 
of  his  people,  and  the  terror  of  the  world. 

''According  to  their  national  custom,  the  baibarians  cut  off 
a  parfc  of  their  hair,  gashed  their  faces  with  un^seemly  wounds, 
and  bewailed  their  valiant  leader  as  he  deservfid,  not  with  the 
tears  of  women,  but  with  the  blood  of  warriors.  The  remains 
of  Attila  were  enclosed  within  three  coffins,  —  of  gold,  of  silver, 
and  of  iron,  —  and  were  privately  buried  in  the  night.  The 
spoils  of  nations  were  thrown  into  his  grave.  J?he  captives 
who  had  opened  the  ground  were  inhumanly  massacred  ;  and 
the  same  Huns  who  had  indulged  such  excessive  grief,  feasted, 
with  dissolute  and  intempf-rate  mirth,  about  the  recent  sepul- 
chre of  their  king." 

Valentinian  inveigled  a  noble  lady,  alike  illustrious  for  beauty 
and  piety,  to  his  palace,  where  he  treated  her  with  such  indig- 
nities as  to  rouse  to  the  highest  pitch  the  wrath  of  her  husband 
and  friends.  A  conspiracy  was  formed  by  her  husband  Maxi- 
K1U8,  a  Roman  senator;  and  Valentinian  died  beneath  the  dag- 
gers which  his  crimej  had  unsheathed.  The  solders  placed 
the  diadem  upon  the  brovy  of  Maximus.  His  wife  soon  after 
died ;  and  he  endeavored  to  compel  Eudoxia,  the  widow  of  Val- 
entinian, to  become  his  spouse.  She  recoiled  from  throwing 
herself  into  the  arms  of  the  murderer  of  her  hiisband,  and  ap- 
pealed for  aid  to  Genseric,  one  of  those  powerful  Vandal  kings 
who  had  wrested  Africa  from  the  Roman  empire. 

Genseric  joyfully  espoused  her  cause.  With  a  large  fleet  he 
entered  the  Tiber,  advanced  to  Rome,  and  captured  the  city. 
In  the  struggle,  Maximus  was  slain,  and  unhappy  Rome  waa 


370  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

surrendered  to  the  Moors  and  the  Vandals  to  be  pillaged  for 
fourteen  days.  The  barbarian  Genseric  carried  back  into  the 
wilds  of  Africa,  as  slaves,  Eudoxia,  the  widowed  Empress  of 
Rome,  and  her  two  daughters.  Many  other  Roman  matroas  and 
maidens  swelled  the  long  train  of  captives  who  were  dragged 
into  life-long  bondage. 

"  Eudoxia,"  writes  Gibbon,  "  was  rudely  stripped  of  her 
jewels ;  and  the  unfortunate  empress,  with  her  two  daughters, 
the  only  surviving  remains  of  the  great  Theodosius,  was  com- 
pelled as  a  captive  to  follow  the  haughty  Vandal,  who  im- 
mediately hoisted  sail,  and  returned,  with  a  prosperous  naviga- 
tion, to  the  port  of  Carthage.  Many  thousand  Romans  of  both 
sexes,  chosen  for  some  useful  or  agreeable  qualifications  reluc- 
tantly embarked  on  board  the  fleet  of  Genseric ;  and  their  dis- 
tress was  aggravated  by  the  unfeeling  barbarians,  wiio,  in  the 
division  of  the  booty,  separated  the  wives  from  their  husband*., 
and  the  children  from  their  parents." 

The  whole, world  seemed  to  be  now  essentially  in  the  condi- 
tion of  a  city  surrendered  to  the  mob.  There  was  no  stabh- 
government  anywhere.  There  was  nowhere  peace  or  pros 
perity  or  joy.  Man's  corruption  had  filled  the  earth  with 
misery.  Still  there  were  thousands  of  individual  Christians^ 
in  obscurity  and  through  much  tribulation,  struggling  nobly  to 
their  throne  and  their  crown  in  heaven. 

It.  is  difficult  to  conceive  of  a  more  melancholy  spectacle 
than  Italy  presented.  The  barbarians  were  masters  of  the 
whole  Peninsula.  Odoacer,  a  stern  Gothic  warrior,  after  sev- 
eral years  of  the  wildest  anarchy,  witl  war.  and  assassinations 
too  numerous  to  mention,  in  the  year  476  coirpelled  the  Roman 
senate  by  a  formal  decree  to  abolish  ohe  imperial  suocession, 
and  to  recognize  him  as  the  military  chieftain  of  Italy,  Thus, 
after  the  decay  of  ages,  the  Roman  empire  fell,  to  rise  no  more. 

Sagaciously  this  ferocious  barbarian  respected  time  honored 
institutions.  He  conferred  upon  his  captains  titles  of  diwke3 
and  counts,  thus  perpetuating  and  extendiag  the  feudal  sys- 
tem. The  Roman  nobles,  surrendering  themse"ves  to  t.!i  sen- 
Bual  indulgence,  had  sunk  into  the  lowest  debas'^ment.    -A  con- 


THE  FIFTH  CENTURY.  371 

temporary  historian,  Ammianus  Marcellinus,  gives  the  follow- 
ing graphic  account  of  the  aristocracy  of  Rome  at  that  time :  — 
*'  The  ostentation  of  presenting  the  rent-roll  of  their  estates 
provokes  the  resentment  of  every  man  who  remembers  that 
their  poor  ancestors  were  not  distinguished  from  the  meanest 
of  the  soldiers.  The  modern  nobles  measure  their  rank  by  the 
splendor  of  their  carriages  and  the  magnificence  of  their  dress. 
Followed  by  a  train  of  fifty  slaves,  they  sweep  the  streets  with 
impetuous  speed.  When  they  condescend  to  visit  the  public 
baths,  they  assume  a  tone  of  loud  and  insolent  command,  and 
appropriate  to  themselves  conveniences  designed  for  the  Roman 
people.  Sometimes  they  visit  their  plantations  in  the  country, 
and,  by  the  toil  of  servile  hands,  engage  in  the  amusements  of 
tiie  chase.  When  they  travel,  they  are  followed  by  a  multitude 
of  cooks  and  inferior  servants,  accompanied  by  a  promiscuous 
crowd  of  slaves  and  dependent  plebeians.  They  express  ex- 
quisite sensibility  for  any  personal  injury,  and  contemptuous 
i-.iifierence  for  all  the  rest  of  the  human  species.  Should  they 
call  for  some  water,  and  a  slave  be  tardy  in  bringing  it,  the 
slave  would  be  punished  with  tlirea  hundred  lashes. 

"  A  sure  method  of  introduction  to  the  society  of  the  great 
is  skill  in  gambling.  The  confederates  ar<j  united  by  an  indis- 
soluble bond  of  friendship,  or  rather  of  conspirp.,cy.  The  acqui- 
sition of  knowledge  seldom  engages  their  a';teation  who  abhor 
the  fatig-i.'.e  and  disdain  the  advantages  of  study.  The  distress 
which  chastises  extravagant  luxury  often  reduces  them  to  the 
most  humiliating  expediento.  When  they  wish  to  borrow, 
they  &re  as  suppliant  as  a  fclave.  When  caUed  upon  to  pay, 
they  assume  airs  of  indolence,  as  if  they  were  the  grandsons 
of  Hercules." 

Italy  had  indeed  fallen :  the  barbaric  leader  of  a  semi-civ- 
ilized band  was  her  enthroned  monarch.  During  a  reign  of 
fourteen  years,  vast  crowds  of  emigrants  from  the  bleak  realms 
north  of  the  Rhine  and  the  Dani-be  flocked  into  sunny  Italy. 

They  received  a  cordial  w3lcome  from  Odoacer,  and  rapidly 
blended  with  the  people  among  whom  they  took  up  their  resi- 
dence.    But  fertile  and  beautifiil  Italy  was  too  rich  a  prize  in 


372  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

bhe  eyes  of  the  powerful  Northern  nations  to  be  long  left  in  the 
undisputed  possession  of  Odoacer. 

Upon  the  northern  banks  of  the  Euxine  Sea  there  was  a 
populous  nation  called  the  Ostrogoths.  Their  king,  Theodoric. 
had  been  educated  at  Constantinople,  and  was  a  civilized  man, 
reigning  over  a  comparatively  barbaric  people.  He  commenced 
his  march  upon  Italy,  accompanied  by  the  whole  nation. 

"  The  march  of  Theodoric,"  says  Gibbon,  "  must  be  consid- 
ered as  the  emigration  of  an  entire  people.  Each  bold  baiba- 
rian  who  had  heard  of  the  wealth  and  beauty  of  Italy  was 
impatient  to  seek,  through  the  most  perilous  adventures,  the 
possession  of  such  enchanting  objects.  The  wives  and  children 
of  the  Goths,  their  aged  parents  and  most  precious  effects,  were 
carefully  transported ;  and  some  idea  may  be  formed  of  the  heavy 
baggage  that  followed  the  camp,  by  the  loss  of  two  thousand 
wagons,  which  had  been  sustained  in  a  single  action  in  the  war 
of  Epirus.  Eor  their  subsistence  the  Goths  depended  on  the 
magazines  of  corn,  which  was  ground  in  portable  miUs  by  ihe 
hands  of  their  women ;  on  tho  milk  and  flesh  of  their  flocss 
and  herds;  on  the  casual  produce  of  the  chase;  and  upon  the 
contributions  which  they  might  impose  on  all  who  should  pre- 
sume to  dispute  t^iieli:  passage  or  to  refuse  their  friendly  assist- 
ance. Notwithstanding  these  precautions,  they  were  exposed 
to  the  danger  and  almost  to  the  distress  of  famine  in  a  march 
of  seven  hundred  miles,  which  had  been  undertaken  in  the 
depth  of  a  rigorous  winter."  ^ 

Their  march  was  through  prcvi^aces  devastatsd  hj  war  and 
famine.  Still  Theodoric  had  mar-.y  fierce  battles  to  wage  ere 
lie  descended  the  southern  declivitier;  of  the  Julian  Alpc^  and 
displayed  his  banners  on  the  confines  of  Italy.  Odoacer  met 
him  on  the  eastern  frontiers  of  Venetia.  Conquered  in  a  bloody 
battle,  he  retreated  to  the  walls  of  Verona  >  and  all  Venetia  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  Ostrogoths.  Odoacer  made  another  stand 
upon  the  banks  of  tht  Adigo :  a  still  more  sanguinary  baitle 
was  fought,  and  the  broken  bands  of  Odoacer  fled  to  Ravenna, 
on  the  Adriatic.     Theodoric  marched  triumphantly  to  Milan, 

»  Vol.  V.  p.8. 


THE  FIFTH  CENTURY.  373 

where  the  ever-fickle  multitude  received  the  conqueror  with 
every  demonstration  of  joy.  Still,  for  three  years,  wretched 
Italy  was  desolated  by  war  :  misery  reigned  from  the  Alps  to 
the  extremity  of  the  Peninsula,  as  man's  inhumanity  to  man 
caused  countless  millions  to  mourn. 

At  length,  Thecdoric  was  victorious  :  having  annihilated 
the  armies  of  the  Goths,  and  plunged  his  sword  into  the  bosom 
of  Odoacer,  he  entered  upon  the  undisputed  sovereignty  of  the 
whole  of  Italy.  Theodoric  governed  this  most  beautiful  of 
realms  with  energy,  wisdom,  and  humanity.  A  third  of  the 
lands  of  Italy  were  divided  among  his  own  people.  For  thirty- 
three  years  he  reigned  with  sagacity,  which  has  given  him  the 
designation  of  "  the  Great."  He  was  nominally  a  Christian,  aa 
were  very  many  of  his  followers.  The  days  of  paganism  had 
passed,  never  to  return.  Christianity  had  in  a  remarkable 
degree  pervaded  the  barbaric  nations  outside  the  limits  of  the 
Roman  empire. 

Christianity,  which  had  gained  such  signal  victories  over  the 
learned  and  luxurious  Romans,  was  equally  triumphant  over 
the  warlike  barbarians  of  Scythia  and  Germany.  These  fierce 
hordes,  in  their  military  incursions,  carried  back  into  their  sav- 
age ivilds  thousands  of  captives.  Many  of  these  were  Christians, 
and  some  were  clergymen.  They  were  dispersed  as  slaves 
throughout  the  wide  realms  of  their  conquerors.  They,  like  the 
early  disciples  who  were  scattered  from  Jerusalem,  proclaimed, 
in  the  huts  of  their  barbaric  masters,  the  gospel  of  Jesus,  and 
won  many  triumphs  to  the  cross  of  Christ. 

John  Chrysostom,  whom  we  have  mentioned  as  one  of  the 
most  illustrious  men  of  these  days,  upon  becoming  a  Christian 
when  but  little  over  twenty  years  of  age,  abandoned  all  the  ambi- 
tion of  life,  and  retired  to  the  cells  of  the  anchorites  who  were 
dwelling  on  the  mountains  in  the  vicinity  of  Antioch.  Chrys- 
ostom gives  us  the  following  account  of  the  mode  of  life  then 
adopted  by  the  anchorites :  — 

*^  They  rise  with  the  first  crowing  of  the  cock,  or  at  midnight. 
After  having  read  psalms  and  hymns  in  common,  each,  in  his 
8epa>:ate  cell,  is  occupied  in  readir  g  the  Holy  Scriptures,  or  in 


374  HISTORY  OF  CHEISTMNITY. 

copying  books.  Then  they  proceed  to  church,  and,  after  mass, 
return  quietly  to  their  habitations.  They  never  speak  to  each 
other.  Their  nourishment  is  bread  and  salt :  some  add  oil  to 
it,  and  the  invalids  vegetables.  After  meals  they  rest  a  li)w 
moments,  and  then  return  to  their  usual  occupations.  They  till 
the  ground,  fell  wood,  make  baskets  and  clothes,  and  wash  ths 
feet  of  travellers.  Their  bed  is  a  mat  spread  upon  the  ground  ; 
their  dress  consists  of  skins  or  cloths  made  of  the  hair  of  govits 
or  camels.  They  go  barefooted,  have  no  property,  and  never 
pronounce  the  words  mine  and  thine.  Undisturbed  ps&ce 
dwells  in  their  habitations,  and  a  cheerfulness  scarcely  known 
in  the  world." 

There  can  be  no  question  as  to  the  sincerity  of  these  clois- 
tered monks,  misguided  as  they  were.  Chrysostom  dwelt  m  a 
cavern  for  two  years,  without  lying  down.  His  penance  was 
so  severe,  that  he  was  thrown  into  a  fit  of  sickness,  which  com- 
pelled his  return  to  Antioch.  After  a  life  of  tireless  activity, 
many  persecutions,  and  efficient  devotion  to  the  interests  of  tho 
Church,  he  died,  as  we  have  mentioned,  in  exile,  in  the  sixty- 
third  year  of  his  age. 

"  The  name  of  Chrysostom,  '  Golden-mouthed,'  was  assigned 
to  him  after  his  death  to  express  the  eloquence  which  he  pos- 
sessed in  so  much  greater  a  degree  than  the  other  fathei* 
of  the  Church.  He  never  repeats  himself,  and  is  always  origi- 
nal. The  vivacity  and  power  of  his  imagination,  the  force  of 
his  logic,  his  power  of  arousing  the  passions,  the  beauty  and 
accuracy  of  his  comparisons,  the  neatness  and  purity  of  his 
style,  his  clearness  and  sublimity,  place  him  on  a  level  with 
the  most  celebrated  Greek  authors.  The  Greek  Church  has 
not  a  more  accomplished  orator."  ^ 

The  inclination  for  monastic  seclusion  very  rapidly  increased 
Some  sought  the  silence  of  the  desert  because  they  felt  unable 
to  resist  the  temptations  of  buoy  life  ;  some,  to  escape  from  per- 
secution ;  jome,  as  a  refuge  from  remorse ;  some,  from  the  con- 
viction tiiat  sin  might  be  atoned  for  by  self-inflicted  suffering ; 
8om.e,  from  disgust  at  life,  or  a  natural  fondness  for  solitude 

^  Encyclopsedia  Americana. 


THE  FIFTH  CENTURY.  375 

and  contemplation.  In  the  middle  of  tlie  fourtli  century,  there 
was  a  colony  of  these  anchorets  upon  the  Island  of  Tabenna,  in 
the  Nile,  numbering  fifty  thousand  persons.  They  lived  in  the 
extreme  of  abstinence,  occupying  cheerless  cells  in  very  humble 
huts. 

Men  only  at  first  entered  upon  this  hermit  life.  About  the 
middle  of  the  fourth  century,  female  monasteries,  or  convents 
of  nuns,  were  instituted. 

This  retirement  from  the  world  to  the  cloister  in  those 
troublous  times  proved  by  no  means  an  unmixed  evil.  Gradu- 
ally very  solemn  monastic  vows  and  extremely  rigid  rules  of 
discipline  were  introduced. 

"  These  houses  now  became  the  dwellings  of  piety,  industry, 
and  temperance,  and  the  refuge  of  learning  driven  to  them  for 
shelter  from  the  troubles"  of  the  times.  IMissionaries  were  sent 
out  from  them :  deserts  and  solitudes  were  made  habitable  by 
industrious  monks.  And  in  promoting  the  progress  of  agri- 
culture, and  civilizing  the  German  and  Sclavonian  nations,  they 
certainly  rendered  great  services  to  the  world  from  the  sixth 
century  to  the  ninth.  But  it  must  be  admitted  that  these  insti- 
tutions, so  useful  in  the  dark  ages  of  barbarism,  changed  theix 
character  to  a  great  degree  as  their  wealth  and  influence  in- 
creased. Idleness  and  luxury  crept  within  their  walls,  together 
with  all  the  vices  of  the  world ;  and  their  decay  became  inevi- 
table." » 

In  the  early  part  of  this  century  Augustine  died,  a  man 
whose  renown  hca  been  fresh  in  the  Church  for  fourteen 
hundred  years.  He  was  bom  in  Tagasta,  a  small  city  in 
Africa,  on  the  13th  of  November,  354.  His  father  was  a 
pagan,  though  he  became  a  disciple  of  Jesus  just  before  his 
death.  His  mother  was  an  earnest  Christian,  by  whose  pious 
teachings  Augustine  in  his  early  childhood  was  deeply  im- 
pressed. While  a  mere  boy,  upon  a  sudden  attack  of  dan- 
gerous sickness,  he  entreated  that  he  might  be  baptized,  and 
received  into  the  fold  of  Christ.  The  sudden  disappearance  of 
alarming  symptoms  led  his  mother  to  hesitate,  fearing  that  he 

*  Encyclopedia  Americana. 


376  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

might  again  fall  into  sin,  and  that  then  his  baptism  would  only 
add  to  his  condemnation.  Augustine  afterwards  expressed  the 
opinion  that  this  was  a  great  mistake.  He  thought,  that,  had 
he  then  made  a  profession  of  his  faith  in  Christ,  it  would  have 
operated  as  an  incentive  to  a  holy  life,  and  would  have  saved 
him  from  much  subsequent  sin  and  suffering. 

With  returning  health,  temptation  came,  and  the  boy  of 
ardent  passions  was  swept  away  by  the  flood.  "My  weak 
age,"  he  writes,  "was  hurried  along  through  the  whirlpool  of 
flagitiousness.  The  displeasure  of  God  was  all  the  time  im- 
bittering  my  soul.  Where  was  I,  in  that  sixteenth  year  of  my 
age,  when  the  madness  of  lust  seized  me  altogether  ?  My  God, 
thou  spakest  to  me  by  my  mother,  and  through  her  warned  ma 
strongly  against  the  ways  of  vice.  But  my  mother's  voics  I 
despised,  and  thought  it  to  be  only  the  voice  of  a  woman.  So 
blinded  was  I,  that  I  was  ashamed  to  be  thought  less  gailty 
than  my  companions.  I  even  invented  falce  stories  of  my 
sinful  exploits,  that  I  might  win  their  commendation. 

"  I  committed  theft  from  the  wantonness  of  iniquity :  it  was 
not  the  effect  of  the  theft,  but  the  sin  itself,  which  I  wished  to 
enjoy.  There  was  a  pear-tra3  in  the  neighborhood  loaded  with 
finiit.  At  dead  of  night,  in  company  with  some  profligate 
youths,  I  plundered  the  tree.  The  spoil  was  thrown  away ;  for 
I  had  abundance  of  better  fruit  at  home.  What  did  I  mean 
that  I  should  be  gratuitously  wicked  ?  " 

The  father  of  Augustine,  though  not  wealthy,  had  sufficient 
means  and  the  disposition  to  a%>rd  h^s  son  all  existing  facili- 
ties for  the  acquisition  of  a  thorough  education.  The  young 
man  devoted  himself  sediJously  to  the  cultivation  of  eloquence. 
In  the  pursuit  of  his  studies,  he  repaired  to  Carthage,  then  tho 
abode  of  intellect,  wealth,  and  splendor.  Here  he  plunged 
quite  recklessly  into  fasliionable  dissipation.  Wlien  seve^iteen 
years  of  age,  his  father  died;  but  his  fond  mother  maintained 
him  at  Carthage.  It  is  manifest  that  he  wal  stili  the  subject 
of  deep  religious  impressions.  Upon  reading  the  "Hortensius" 
of  Cicero,  he  was  charraed  with  its  philosophy ;  but  he  writes,  — 

"  The  only  thing  which  damped  ray  zeal  was,  that  the  name 


THE  FIFTH  CENTURY.  377 

of  Christ  was  not  there,  —  that  precious  name,  which  from  my 
mother's  milk  I  had  learned  to  reverence ;  and  whatever  was 
without  this  name,  however  just  and  learned  and  polite,  could 
not  wholly  carry  away  my  heart." 

He  commenced  studying  the  Scriptures, .but  with  that  proud, 
self-sufficient  spirit  which  debarred  him  from  all  spiritual 
enlightenment.  His  haughty  frame,  he  afterwards  confessed, 
"justly  exposed  him  to  believe  in  the  most  ridiculous  absurdi- 
ties." 

"  For  nine  years,"  he  writes,  "  while  I  was  rolling  in  the 
elime  of  sin,  often  attempting  to  rise,  and  still  sinking  deeper, 
did  my  mother  in  vigorous  hope  persist  in  incessant  prayer  for 
me.  She  entreated  a  certain  bishop  to  reason  me  out  of  my 
errors.  He  replied,  *  Your  son  is  too  much  elated  at  present 
with  the  pleasing  novelty  of  his  error  to  regard  any  argu- 
ments, as  appears  by  the  pleasure  he  takes  in  puzzling  many 
ignorant  persons  with  his  captious  questions.  Let  him  alone : 
only  continue  to  pray  to  the  Lord  for  him.  It  is  not  possible 
that  a  child  of  such  tears  should  perish.' " 

"  My  mother,"  writes  Augustine,  "  has  often  told  me  since, 
that  this  answer  impressed  her  mind  like  a  voice  from  heaven." 

For  nine  years,  from  the  nineteenth  to  the  twenty-eighth 
of  his  age,  this  very  brilliant  young  man  lived  in  the  indulgence 
of  practices  which  he  knew  to  be  sinful.  His  pride  of  character 
and  his  high  intellectual  attainments  precluded  his  entrance 
upon  scenes  of  low  and  vulgar  vice.  He  was  genteelly  and  fash- 
ionably wicked.  He  had  attained  distinction  as  a  teacher  of 
rhetoric,  and  supported  himself  in  that  way.  There  was  a  young 
man  in  Carthage  who  had  been  a  nominal  Christian,  the  child 
of  Christian  parents,  and  a  companion  and  friend  of  Augustine 
from  childhood.  A  very  strong  friendship  sprang  up  between 
them ;  and  Augustine  succeeded  in  drawing  this  young  man 
away  from  the  Christian  faith,  and  in  luring  him  into  his  own 
paths  of  error  and  of  sin. 

This  young  man  was  taken  dangerously  sick.  When  uncon- 
scious, and  apparently  near  his  end,  he  was,  by  the  wish  of  hia 
parents,  baptized.  Contrary  to  all  expectation,  he  recovered. 
Aue:ustine  writes,  — 


378  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

"  I  regarded  his  baptism  when  in  a  state  of  unconsciousLeaa 
with  great  indifference,  not  doubting  that  he  would  adhere  to 
my  instructions.  As  soon  as  I  had  an  opportunity  of  convers- 
ing with  him,  I  attempted  to  turn  into  ridicule  his  late  baptism, 
in  which  I  expected  his  concurrence.  But  he  dreaded  me  aa 
an  enemy,  and  with  wonderful  freedom  admonished  me,  that, 
if  I  would  be  his  friend,  I  should  drop  the  subject.  Confounded 
at  this  unexpected  behavior,  I  deferred  the  conversation  till  he 
should  be  thoroughly  recovered." 

There  was  a  relapse,  and  the  young  man  died.  Augustine 
was  overwhelmed  with  anguish :  remorse  was  manifestly  in 
some  degree  commingled  with  his  grief.  Time  gradually  les- 
sened his  sorrow ;  and  in  his  restlessness  he  resolved  to  go  to 
Rome,  there  to  seek  new  excitements  and  a  larger  field  of  am- 
bition. Knowing  that  his  Avidowed  mother's  heart  would  be 
broken  by  his  abandonment  of  her,  he  deceived  her,  and,  upon 
pretence  of  taking  a  sail  with  a  friend,  left  his  home  to  seek  his 
fortune  in  the  renowned  metropolis  of  the  world. 

"Thus,"  he  writes,  "did  I  deceive  my  mother;  and  such  a 
mother !  Yet  was  I  preserved  from  the  dangers  of  the  sea, 
foul  as  I  was  in  the  mire  of  sin.  But  the  time  was  coming 
when  thou,  0  God !  wouldst  wipe  away  my  mother's  tears  ;  and 
even  this  base  undutifulness  thou  hast  forgiven  me.  The  wind 
favored  us,  and  carried  us  out  of  sight  of  shore.  In  the  morn- 
ing, my  mother  was  distracted  with  grief :  she  wept  and  waUed, 
and  was  inconsolable  in  her  violent  agonies.  In  her,  affection 
was  very  strong.  But,  wearied  of  grief,  she  returned  to  her 
former  employment  of  praying  for  me,  and  went  home ;  while  I 
continued  my  journey  to  Rome." 

Soon  after  his  arrival  in  the  city,  he  was  taken  dangerously 
■ick,  and  his  life  was  despaired  of.  In  the  lethargy  of  his  sick- 
ness, he  thought  but  little  of  his  sins  and  his  danger.  His 
mother,  though  uninformed  of  his  sickness,  repaired  to  the 
church  every  morning  and  evening,  there  to  pray  for  the  con- 
version of  her  son.  Gradually  Augustine  regained  his  health, 
and  was  invited  to  give  some  lectures  upon  rhetoric  in  Milan. 
Bishop  Ambrose  was  pastor  of  the  church  there,  —  a  man  of 


THE  FIFTH  CENTURY.  379 

Buperior  intellectual  powers,  and  wlio  had  acquired  renown  both 
as  a  logician  and  an  orator.  Young  Augustine  called  upon  the 
bishop. 

"The  man  of  God,"  he  writes,  "received  me  as  a  father; 
and  I  conceived  an  affection  for  him,  not  as  a  teacher  of  truth, 
which  I  had  no  idea  of  discovering  in  the  Church,  but  as  a  man 
kind  to  me.  I  studiously  attended  his  preaching,  only  with  a 
curious  desire  of  discovering  whether  fame  had  done  justice  to 
his  eloquence  or  not.  Gradually  I  was  brought  to  attend  to 
the  doctrine  of  the  bishop.  I  found  reason  to  rebuke  myself 
for  the  hasty  conclusions  I  had  formed  of  the  indefensible  nature 
of  the  law  and  the  prophets.  The  possibility  of  finding  truth 
in  the  Church  of  Christ  appeared." 

His  mother,  drawn  by  love  and  anxiety,  now  left  Carthage, 
and,  cr.^CEsing  the  Mediterranean,  went  to  Milan,  where  she 
became  united  to  her  wayward  and  wandering  son.  Augustine 
informed  his  mother  of  the  partial  change  which  had  taken 
place  in  his  views,  and  that  he  was  in  the  habit  of  attending 
the  preaching  of  Bishop  Ambrose.  She  replied,  "  I  believe  in 
Christ,  that,  before  I  leave  this  world,  I  shall  see  you  a  sound 
believer."  She  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  bishop,  interested 
him  still  more  deeply  in  her  son,  and,  with  renewed  fervor, 
pleaded  with  God  for  his  conversion. 

"  Ambrccc,"  Augustine  writes,  "  was  charmed  with  the  fervor 
of  my  mother's  piety,  her  amiableness,  and  her  good  works.  He 
often  congratulated  me  that  I  had  such  a  mother,  little  know- 
ing what  sort  of  a  son  she  had.  The  state  of  my  mind  was 
now  somewhat  altered.  Ashamed  of  past  delusions,  I  was  the 
more  anxious  to  be  guided  right  for  the  time  to  come.  I  was 
completely  convinced  of  the  falsehood  of  the  many  things  I 
had  once  uttered  with  so  much  confidence." 

A  season  of  great  anxiety  and  sadness  now  ensued.  He  was 
firmly  convinced  of  the  divine  authority  of  that  Bible,  which, 
in  his  infideUty,  he  had  rejected.  Still  he  had  not  as  yet  sur- 
rendered his  heart  to  the  Saviour,  and  had  found  no  peace  in 
believing.  In  comparison  with  eternal  things,  all  the  pursuits 
of  ''his.  world  seemed  trivial.     His  heart  was  like  the  troubled 


380  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

sea:  his  conscience  reproached  him  for  neglecting  the  salva- 
tion of  his  soul.  The  following  extract  from  his  "Confessions" 
gives  a  vivid  idea  of  the  struggles  in  which  his  spirit;  was  then 
engaged : — 

"  Your  mornings,"  I  said  to  myself,  "  are  for  your  pupils : 
why,  then,  do  you  not  attend  to  religious  duties  in  the  after- 
noon ?  But,  then,  what  time  should  I  have  to  attend  to  the 
levees  of  the  great  ?  What,  then,  if  death  should  suddenly  seize 
you,  and  judgment  overtake  you  unprepared?  But  what  if 
death  be  the  end  of  our  being  ?  Yet  far  from  my  soul  be  such  a 
thought !  God  would  never  have  given  such  proof  of  the  truth 
of  Christianity  if  the  soul  died  with  the  body.  Why,  then,  do 
I  not  give  myself  wholly  to  God  ?  But  do  not  be  in  a  hurry. 
You  have  influential  friends,  and  may  yet  attain  wealth  and 
honor  in  the  world*  In  such  an  agitation  of  mind,"  continues 
Augustine,  "did  I  live,  seeking  happiness,  yet  flying  from 
it." 

Twelve  years  had  now  passed  away,  during  which  Augustine 
had  been  professedly  seeking  the  truth,  and  yet  had  found  no 
peace.  "  I  had,"  he  writes,  "  deferred  from  day  to  day  devoting 
myself  to  God,  under  the  pretence  that  I  was  uncertain  where 
the  truth  lay." 

And  then  the  question  occurred  to  him,  "  How  is  it  that  so 
many  humble  persons  find  peace  so  speedily  in  religion,  whUe 
I,  with  all  my  philosophy  and  anxious  reasonings,  remain  year 
after  year  in  darkness  and  doubt  ?  "  Conscious  that  the  difficul- 
ty was  to  be  found  in  his  own  stubborn  will,  he  retired  in  great 
agitation  to  a  secluded  spot  in  the  garden,  and,  as  he  writes, 
"with  vehement  indignation  I  rebuked  my  sinful  spirit  because 
it  would  not  give  itself  up  to  God."  His  anguish  was  greai, 
and  he  wept  bitterly.  Falling  upon  his  knees  beneath  a  fig- 
tree,  with  tears  and  trembling  utterance  he  exclaimed,  — 

"  0  Lord !  how  long  shall  I  say  to-morrow  ?  Why  should 
not  this  hour  put  an  end  to  my  slavery  ?  " 

Just  then,  he  fancied  that  he  heard  a  voice  saying  to  him, 
"  Take  up,  and  read."  He  had  with  him  Paul's  epistles. 
Opening  the  book,  the  first  passage  which  met  his  eye  was 


THE  FIFTH  CENTURY.  381 

this,  found  in  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  Romans,  thirteenth  and 
fourteenth  verses :  — 

"  Let  us  walk  honestly,  as  in  the  day ;  not  in  rioting  and 
drunkenness,  not  in  chambering  and  wantonness,  not  in  strife 
and  envying.  But  put  ye  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  make 
not  provision  for  the  flesh  to  fulfil  the  lusts  thereof." 

The  besetting  sin  of  Augustine,  and  the  great  and  crying 
shame  of  the  times,  was  sensuality.  The  passage  came  to  his 
mind  as  a  direct  message  from  Heaven.  It  said  to  him,  "  Aban- 
don every  sin,  renounce  your  pursuits  of  earthly  ambition,  and 
commence  a  new  life  of  faith  in  Jesus  Christ."  He  at  once 
was  enabled  to  make  the  surrender :  all  his  doubts  vanished ; 
and  that  "  hope,  which  we  have  as  an  anchor  of  the  soul,  both 
sure  and  steadfast,"  dawned  upon  his  mind. 

He  immediately  hastened  to  his  mother  to  inform  her  of 
the  joyful  event ;  and  she  rejoiced  with  him  with  heartfelt 
sympathy  such  as  none  but  a  Christian  mother  can  understand. 
In  commenting  upon  this  change,  Augustine  writes,  "The 
whole  of  my  difficulty  lay  in  a  will  stubbornly  set  in  oppo- 
sition to  God.  But  from  what  deep  secret  was  my  fr-ee  will 
called  out  in  a  moment,  by  which  I  bowed  my  shoulders  to 
thy  light  burden,  Christ  Jesus,  my  Helper  and  my  Redeemer?" 
Where  is  the  thoughtful  Christian  who  has  not  often  asked 
this  question  ?  — 

"  Why  was  I  made  to  hear  Thy  voice, 
And  enter  while  there's  room, 
When  thousands  make  a  wretched  choice, 
And  rather  starve  than  come  1 " 

The  reply  which  our  Saviour  makes  to  this  inquiry  is  Lot 
an  explanation :  "  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and 
thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof,  but  canst  not  teU  whence  it 
Cometh,  and  whither  it  goeth :  so  is  every  one  that  is  bom  of 
the  Spirit." 

Augustine  relinquished  his  profession  of  a  teacher  of  rheto- 
ric, and,  guided  by  Bishop  Ambrose,  entered  upon  the  study 
of  theology.     He  was  baptized  in  the  church  of  Milan  with 


382  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

his  son  Adeodatus,  whom  he  acknowledged  as  his  child.  Au- 
gustine decided  to  return  to  Carthage  with  his  mother ;  but, 
just  as  they  were  about  to  embark  at  the  mouth  of  the  Tiber, 
she  was  taken  sick,  and  died.  The  afflicted  son  pays  a  very 
beautifal  tribute  to  her  memory,  as  one  of  the  most  noble  of 
Christian  women.  In  this  eulogy  he  makes  the  following 
statements  illustrative  of  her  character  and  of  the  times  :  — 

"  My  mother,  when  young,  had  learned  by  degrees  to  drink 
wine,  having  been  sent  to  draw  it  for  the  use  of  the  family. 
How  was  she  delivered  from  this  snare  ?  God  provided  for 
her  a  malignant  reproach  from  a  maid  in  the  house,  who  in  a 
passion  called  her  a  drunkard.  Thus  was  she  cured  of  her 
evil  practice. 

"  After  her  marriage  with  my  father,  Patricius,  she  endeav- 
ored to  win  him  to  Christianity  by  her  amiable  manners ;  and 
natiently  she  bore  his  unfaithfulness.  His  temper  was  hasty, 
but  his  spirit  kind.  She  knew  how  to  bear  with  him  when 
angry  by  a  perfect  silence  and  composure ;  and,  when  she  saw 
him  cool,  would  meekly  expostulate  with  him.  Many  matrons 
would  complain  of  the  blows  and  harsh  treatment  they  received 
from  their  husbands,  whom  she  would  exhort  to  govern  their 
tongues.  When  they  expressed  astonishment  that  it  was 
never  heard  that  Patricius  had  beaten  his  wife,  or  that  they 
ever  were  at  variance  a  single  day,  she  informed  them  of  her 
plan.  Those  who  followed  it  thanked  her  for  its  good  success : 
those  who  did  not  experienced  vexation. 

"  It  was  a  great  gift  which,  0  my  God !  thou  gavest  her, 
that  she  never  repeated  the  unkind  things  which  she  had 
heaxd  from  persons  who  were  at  variance  with  one  another ; 
and  she  was  conscientiously  exact  in  saying  nothing  but  what 
might  tend  to  heal  and  to  reconcile.  At  length,  in  the  ex- 
tremity of  life,  she  gained  her  husband  to  thee,  and  he  died 
in  the  faith  of  Christ. 

"  My  mother  and  I  stood  alone  at  a  window  facing  the 
east,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Tiber,  where  we  were  preparing 
for  our  voyage.  Our  discourse  ascended  above  the  noblest 
parts  of  the  material  creation  to  the  consideration  of  our  own 


THE  FIFTH  CENTURY.  383 

minds  ;  and,  passing  above  them,  we  attempted  to  reach  heaven 
itself,  —  to  come  to  thee,  by  whom  all  things  were  made.  At 
that  moment  the  world  appeared  to  us  of  no  value.  She  said, 
'  Son,  I  have  now  no  clinging  to  life.  It  was  your  conversion 
alone  for  which  I  wished  to  live.  God  has  given  me  this.  What 
more  is  there  for  me  to  do  here  ? '  Scarcely  five  days  after,  she 
fell  into  a  fever.  She  departed  this  life  on  the  ninth  day  of 
her  illness,  in  the  fifty-sixth  year  of  her  age,  and  the  thirty- 
third  of  mine." 

Augustine  returned  to  Africa,  where,  after  three  years  of 
retirement  and  study,  he  was  ordained  a  preacher  of  the  gospeL 
The  fame  of  his  eloquence  rapidly  spread  throughout  the 
Western  world,  drawing  crowds  of  the  pagans,  as  well  as  of  the 
Christians,  to  his  church  ;  and  ere  long  he  was  elected  Bishop 
of  Hippo.  After  a  life  of  unwearied  devotion  to  the  interests 
of  Christianity,  preaching  the  gospel  of  Christ  with  simplicity, 
purity,  and  fervor  rarely  equalled,  and  with  his  pen  defending 
the  doctrines  of  grace  with  logical  acumen  and  philosophic 
breadth  of  view  perhaps  never  surpassed,  this  illustrious  man 
died  in  the  year  430,  in  the  seventy-sixth  year  of  his  age,  and 
the  fortieth  of  hi.s  ministry. 


CHAPTEE   XX. 


OKNTUBIES    OF   WAR   AND   'WOB. 


CoBTulsions  of  the  Sixth  Century.  —  Corruption  of  the  Church.  —  The  Rise  of  Mob- 
asterleB.  —  Rivalry  between  Rome  and  Constantinople.  —  Mohammed  and  hia 
Career.  —  His  Personal  Appearance.  —  His  System  of  Religion.  —  His  Death.  — 
Military  Expeditions  of  the  Moslems.  —  The  Threatened  Conquest  of  Europe, 
—  Capture  of  Alexandria.  —  Burning  of  the  Library.  —  Rise  of  the  Feudal 
System.  —  Charlemagne.  —  Barbarian  Antagonism  to  Christianity. 


'HE  sixtli  century  of  the  Christian  era  passed  away 
like  a  hideous  dream  of  the  night.  Wave  after 
wave  of  harharic  invasion  swept  over  Europe  and 
Asia.  Rome  was  sacked  five  times,  m  the  eu- 
durance  of  violence  and  woes  which  no  pen  can 
describe.  Paganism  was  overthrown ;  but  grad- 
ually Christianity  became  paganized.  Still,  cor- 
rupt as  Christianity  became,  it  was  an  immense  improvement 
over  the  ancient  systems  of  idolatry.  The  past  narrative 
has  given  the  reader  some  faint  idea  of  what  morals  were 
under  the  old  Roman  emperors.  The  depravity  of  man,  van- 
quished in  its  endeavor  to  uphold  idolatry,  with  all  its  pollut- 
ing rites,  endeavored  to  degrade  Christianity  into  a  mere  sys- 
tem of  dead  doctrines  and  pompous  ceremonies.  In  this  it 
partially  succeeded ;  but  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  sink  Chris- 
tianity to  a  level  with  paganism. 

The  disordered  state  of  the  times  had  swept  the  rural  popular 
tion  from  the  fields,  and  they  were  huddled  together  for  protec- 
tion in  the  villages  and  walled  cities.  Immense  tracts  of  land 
all  over  Europe  were  left  waste.     Herds  of  cattle  grazed  over 


SENTURIES  OF  WAR  AND    WOE.  385 

these  desolate  expanses,  guarded  by  armed  serfs,  wLo  watched 
them  by  day,  and  slept  in  the  fields  by  their  side  at  night. 
Slavery  was  universally  practised,  the  conqueror  almost  invari- 
ably enslaving  the  conquered.  Hence  labor  became  degrading : 
note  but  slaves  would  work.  It  was  gentlemanly,  it  was 
chivalric,  to  obtain  wealth  by  pillage :  it  was  vulgar,  boorish, 
entirely  derogatory  to  all  dignity,  to  move  a  finger  in  honest 
industry.  The  highest  offices  of  the  Church  were  often  as- 
signed by  unprincipled  kings  and  princes  to  their  worthless 
favorites.  Marauding  bands,  not  unfrequently  led  by  these 
false  bishops,  often  fell  upon  the  flocks  grazing  in  the  fields, 
slaughtered  the  herdsmen,  and  drove  off  the  herd. 

A  very  zealous  and  enlightened  Christian,  by  the  name  of 
Benedict,  endeavored  to  counteract  this  ruinous  spirit  of  tha 
times :  he  formed  a  society  quite  similar  in  its  organization  to 
our  temperance  associations.  This  body  of  reformers  soon 
assumed  the  name  of  Monks  of  St.  Benedict.  For  protection 
against  the  marauding  bands  which  were  ever  abroad  upon 
expeditions  of  plunder,  they  built  a  massive,  strongly-fortified 
castle,  which  they  called  a  monastery,  to  which  the  industrious 
community  could  retreat  when  assailed. 

"Beware  of  idleness,"  said  this  noble  Christian  man,  "as 
the  great  enemy  of  the  soul.  No  person  is  more  usefully  fm- 
ployed  than  when  working  with  his  hands,  or  following  tue 
plough." 

This  was  the  origin  essentially  of  many  of  the  monasteries 
of  Eurcpe :  they  were  noble  institutions  in  their  design,  and 
thousands  of  Christians  breathing  the  spirit  of  Christ  found 
within  their  enclosures  peaceful  and  useful  lives  when  the  bil- 
lows of  anarchy  were  surging  over  nearly  all  other  portions  of 
the  globe.  But  that  innate  proneness  to  wickedness,  which 
«pems  everywhere  to  reign,  gradually  perverted  those  onc3 
holy  and  industrious  communities  into  institutions  of  indolence 
and  sin.  Wherever  the  monastery  arose,  there  originally  waved 
around  it  fields  of  grain,  and  fat  cattle  grazed  in  the  meadows. 
Prayer  and  labor,  faith  and  works,  were  combined,  as  they  ever 
should  be.     The  ruins  of  these  monastic  edifices  still  occupy 


386  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

the  most  enchanting  spots  in  Europe :  they  were  usually 
reared  upon  some  eminence  which  commanded  an  extensive 
prospect ;  or  in  some  sheltered  nook,  hy  the  banks  of  a  beauti- 
ful st'-eam.  The  eye  of  taste  is  invariably  charmed  in  visiting 
these  localities.  The  pristine  monks  were  a  noble  set  of  men ; 
and,  for  ages,  learning  and  piety  were  sheltered  in  the  cloisters 
whicii  their  diligent  hands  had  reared. 

The  modem  torrist,  witnessing  the  worldly  wisdom  evidenced 
in  their  whole  plan,  and  conscious  that  there  is  no  longer 
occasion  for  such  institutions,  forgets  the  necessities  of  the 
rude  days  in  which  they  were  constructed,  and  is  too  apt  sneer- 
ingly  to  exclaim,  — 

"  Ah !  those  shrewd  old  monks  had  a  keen  eye  to  creature- 
comforts.  They  loved  the  banks  of  the  well-filled  stream 
sparkling  with  salmon  and  trout :  they  sought  out  luxuriant 
meadows,  where  their  herds  could  roll  in  fatness  amidst  the 
exuberant  verdure  ;  or  the  wooded  hills,  where  the  red  deer 
could  bound  through  the  glade,  and  snowy  flocks  could  graze, 
and  yellow  harvests,  sheltered  from  the  northern  winds,  could 
ripen  in  the  sun." 

Indeed  they  did.  Th-.s  was  3^1  right,  —  Christian  in  the  high- 
est degree.  "  Godliness  is  profitable  unto  all  things."  "  The 
hand  of  the  diligent  maketh  rich."  The  prior  of  the  monastery 
was  not  a  despot  ravelling  in  the  toil  of  others  :  he  was  the 
father  of  the  bousehold  ;  he  was  the  head  workman,  accompa- 
nying his  brethren  to  the  field  of  honest  toil  and  remunerative 
induatry. 

Benedict,  usually  called  St.  Benedict,  early  in  the  sixth  cen- 
tury established  a  monastery,  which  subsequently  attained 
great  celebrity,  upon  the  side  of  Mount  Cassano,  near  Naples. 
None  were  admitted  to  it  but  men  of  pure  lives,  and  who  had 
established  a  reputation  for  such  amiability  of  character  as  would 
^.nsure  their  living  harmoniously  with  the  other  brethren.  It 
became  the  home  of  piety,  industry,  and  temperance  :  the  per- 
secuted sought  refuge  there  ;  scholars  sought  a  retreat  there; 
missionaries  went  out  from  it  into  the  wastes  which  war  and 
vice  had  desolated. 


CENTURIES  OF   WAR  AND    WOE.  387 

The  cloistered  convent  may  with  some  propriety  be  called 
a  divme  institution :  it  was  the  creation  of  necessity.  But, 
in  the  lapse  of  ages,  royal  gifts  and  the  legacies  of  the  dying 
endowed  many  of  them  with  great  wealth.  Opulence  induced 
indolence,  till  these  cradles  of  piety  became  the  strong  for- 
tresses of  iniquity;  and  modern  Christianity  has  been  compelled 
to  frown  them  down. 

From  the  commencement  of  these  institutions,  during  a  period 
of  five  hundred  years,  until  the  tenth  century,  many  of  these 
monasteries  exerted  a  beneficent  and  noble  influence.  Chris- 
tianity had  began  to  break  the  fetters  of  the  slave ;  the.se  freed- 
men,  the  emancipated  slaves,  were  placed  under  the  protec- 
tion of  the  clergy;  and  tbey  often  found  shelter  from  oppres- 
sion within  sacred  walis  \vhich  secular  violence  did  not  dare 
to  profane.  These  convents  were  for  ages  the  only  post-oflSces 
in  che  country.  Few  could  read  but  the  higlier  clergy.  It  is 
said  ever,  of  the  Emperor  Charlemagne,  that  he  could  not 
write,  and  tbat  his  signature  to  any  document  consisted  of 
his  dipping  his  hand  in  a  bowl  of  red  ink,  and  then  im- 
pressing the  broad  palm  upon  the  parchment.  There  were  but 
few  letters  passed,  save  those  conveying  some  important  state 
intellrgence.  These  documents  were  rapidly  transferred  by  the 
brethren  from  one  convent  to  another.  For  many  centuries,  the 
monks  were  better  informed  than  almost  any  other  persons  of 
what  was  transpiring  throughout  Europe  and  Asia. 

The  warriors  were  men  of  muscle  only,,  not  of  cultivated 
mind.  Intelligence  is  always  a  power:  hence  the  Church 
rapidly  gained  ascendency  over  the  State,  and  the  mitred  bish- 
op took  the  precedence  of  the  helmed  warrior.  The  bishops,  or 
pastors,  of  the  large  churches  in  the  metropolitan  cities,  had 
then,  as  now,  distinction  above  the  rural  clergy.  Constanti- 
nople, outstripping  decaying  Rome,  had  become  the  chief  city 
of  the  world  in  population  and  splendor.  Rome,  proud  of  her 
ancient  renown,  regarded  her  young  rival  very  much  as  an  old, 
aristocratic,  decaying  family  regards  some  successful  adventurer 
of  lowly  birth  who  has  newly  become  rich. 

There  was  strong  rivalry  between  the  bishops  of  these  two 


388  BISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITY 

renDwned  cities,  each  struggling  for  the  pre-eminence.  The 
Bishop  of  Rome  gradually  assumed  the  title  of  Papa,  or  Pope. 
Indeed,  in  the  first  century,  all  the  bishops  in  the  East  were 
entitled  Pope,  or  Father.  Subsequently,  in  the  fifth  century, 
the  Bishop  of  Constantinople  took  the  title  of  Patriarch.  The 
strife  eventuated  in  a  division  between  the  Greek  and  Roman 
churches.  The  Pope  at  Rome  took  the  Western  churches,  and 
the  Patriarch  at  Constantinople  the  Eastern.  Swaying  the 
Bceptre  of  spiritual  power,  both  of  these  ecclesiastics  gradually 
grasped  temporal  power  also.  Christianity  was  virtually  ban- 
ished from  the  Church,  though  there  were  here  and  there 
devoted  pastors ;  and  thousands  of  Christians,  some  of  them 
even  in  the  highest  walks  of  life,  were,  with  prayers  and  tears, 
struggling,  through  the  almost  universal  corruption,  in  the 
path  to  heaven.  Both  the  Grecian  and  the  Roman  b"e'archies 
became  mainly  but  ambitious  political  organizations,  minister- 
ing to  pride  and  luxury  and  splendor.  There  were  some  good 
popes,  as  there  have  been  good  kings  ;  and  many  bad  popes,  as 
there  have  been  bad  kings. 

It  was  near  the  close  of  the  sixth  century  that  Mohammed 
commenced  his  marvellous  career.  Whether  this  extraordinary 
man  were  a  self-deceived  enthusiast,  or  a  designing  impostor, 
is  a  question  which  will  probably  ever  be  discussed,  and  never 
settled. 

Bom  of  wealthy  parents  in  the  city  of  Mecca,  in  the  interior 
of  Arabia,  about  the  year  569,  he,  when  a  lad  of  but  thirteen 
years  of  age,  travelled  to  Syria  on  a  commercial  expedition. 
Here  he  was  entertained  in  one  of  the  Christian  monasteries,  — 
almost  the  only  resort  of  travellers  in  those  days.  One  of  the 
fathers,  perceiving  in  him  indications  of  genius,  paid  him 
marked  attention,  and  probably  made  strenuous  exertions  to 
secure  his  conversion,  not  only  to  Christianity,  but  to  the 
superstitious  observances  which  had  grown  up  around  the  pure 
religion  of  Jesus. 

All  great  men  are  of  a  pensive  temperament :  the  tremendous 
mystery  of  human  life  oppresses  them.  Young  Mohammed 
was  thoughtful,  contemplative,  with  a  tinge  of  melancholy  per- 


CENTURIES  OF  WAR  AND    WOE.  389 

vading  his  wliole  character.  It  is  evident  that  He  was  much 
impressed  by  the  scenes  which  he  had  witnessed  and  the  in- 
structions he  had  received  in  the  convent ;  for  he  formed  the 
habit  of  retiring  every  year  to  the  Cave  of  Hera,  about  three 
miles  from  Mecca.  Here,  in  a  natural  cloister,  he  annually 
spent  a  month  in  solitude,  meditation,  and  prayer. 

In  the  seclusion  and  silence  of  these  hours  he  conceived 
and  matured  his  plan  for  the  establishment  of  a  new  religion. 
There  were  still  remnants  of  the  ancient  idolatry  all  around 
him :  and,  in  his  view,  idolatry  had  crept  into  the  Christian 
Church ;  for  statues  of  the  saints  filled  the  niches  of  the  great 
cathedrals,  and  image-worship  in  churches  and  convents  had 
become  almost  universal.  The  reflections  of  Mohammed  upon 
this  subject  must  have  been  profound  and  long-continued;  for 
he  was  forty  years  of  age  before  he  commenced  active  operations 
in  that  enterprise  which  has  given  him  world-wide  renown. 

Mohammed  affirmed,  that,  in  his  cave,  he  held  interviews  with 
the  angel  Gabriel,  who  had  inspired  him,  as  the  apostles  were 
inspired,  to  proclaim  a  new  and  purer  religion.  He  assumed 
that  the  Jewish  religion  was  from  God,  but  that  its  end  was 
accomplished ;  that  Christianity  was  true,  a  divine  revelation, 
but  that,  having  fulfilled  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  pro- 
claimed, it  was  now  also  to  pass  away,  and  give  place  to  a 
third  and  final  revelation,  which  God  had  revealed  to  Moham- 
med, his  prophet,  and  which,  as  the  perfection  of  divine  wisdom^ 
was  to  endure  forever. 

The  first  disciple  he  gained  was  his  wife ;  then  some  of  his 
relatives  and  a  few  neighbors  avowed  their  faith  in  his  divine 
mission.  But  progress  was  very  slow.  At  the  close  of  ten 
years  of  tireless  perseverance,  but  very  few  could  be  counted 
among  his  followers.  Then,  quite  suddenly,  converts  began  to 
multiply ;  and  he  gave  them  a  military  organization,  boldly 
declaring  that  he  was  divinely  empowered  to  put  any  on«  to 
death  who  should  reject  his  claims,  and  that  the  property  of 
Buch  unbelievers  was  to  be  divided  among  the  faithful.  The 
world  was  just  in  the  situation  for  a  fanatic  band  of  desperate 
marauders  successfully  to  commence  their  march.     The  pros- 


390  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

peel;  of  booty  brought  thousands  of  the  vagabonds  of  Asia  to 
his  standard.  His  first  exploit  was  the  capture  of  a  rich 
caravan,  which  gieatly  elated  and  enriched  his  followers,  and 
extended  his  fame.  At  length,  he  encountered  governmental 
resistance.  His  little  army  was  utterly  routed ;  and  Moham- 
med fled,  wounded  and  bleeding,  from  the  field.  Though  the 
repulse  seemed  for  a  short  time  to  shake  the  faith  of  his  follow- 
ers, he  soon  rallied  them  by  the  assurance  that  it  was  in  conse- 
quence of  their  sins  that  God  had  given  them  this  transient 
reverse,  but  that  God  had  promised  that  all  who  were  slain 
in  his  battles  should  be  immediately  translated  to  a  paradise 
of  exquisite  and  eternal  bliss. 

Crowds  flocked  to  his  camp.  New  battles  were  fought,  and 
victories  won.  His  disciples  became  rich  and  exultant.  His 
religion,  consisting  mainly  of  outward  forms,  was  as  easy  of 
practice  as  any  part  of  the  military  drill.  He  was  soon  at  the 
head  of  ten  thousand  soldiers  inspired  with  all  the  ferocity  which 
religious  fanaticism  could  engender.  The  number  rapidly  in- 
creased to  thirty  thousand.  No  power  could  be  brought  into  the 
field  to  resist  him.  Nearly  all  Arabia,  ignorant,  religionless, 
and  greedy  of  plunder,  enlisted  under  a  banner  which  brought 
its  followers  fame,  adventure,  and  wealth.  It  is  no  longer  tc 
be  wondered  at  that  Mohammed  bj  these  means  eventually 
found  himself  at  the  head  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
of  the  fiercest  warriors  earth  had  ever  known.  To  the  pagans, 
one  religion  was  as  good  as  another.  To  exchange  religions 
was  like  exchanging  garments.  It  was  comparatively  easy  to 
make  proselytes  among  a  barbarian  people  who  had  no  settled 
convictions  of  truth,  and  to  whom  there  could  be  offered  the 
most  attractive  of  temporal  as  well  as  eternal  rewards. 

Gibbon  gives  the  following  account  of  the  personal  appear- 
ance and  intellectual  endowments  of  this  woiiderful  man :  — 

"  According  to  the  traditions  of  his  companions,  Mohammed 
was  diolinguished  by  the  beauty  of  his  person.  Before  be  spoke, 
the  or;itoT  engaged  on  his  side  the .  affections  of  a  public  or  a 
private  audience :  they  apjilauded  his  commanding  presence, 
hia  majestic   aspect,  his  piercing  eye,  his  gracious   smile,  his 


CENTURIES  OF   WAR  AND    WOE.       '  39J 

flowing  beard,  his  countenaBce  that  painted  every  sensation  of 
the  soul,  and  his  gestures  that  enforced  each  expression  of  the 
tongue. 

"  In  the  familiar  offices  of  life,  he  scrupulously  adhered  to  the 
grave  and  ceremonious  politeness  of  his  country.  His  recpect- 
ful  attention  to  the  rich  and  powerful  was  dignified  by  his  con- 
descension and  affability  to  the  poorest  citizens  of  Mecca.  The 
frankness  of  his  manners  concealed  the  artifice  of  his  views ; 
and  the  habits  of  courtesy  were  imputed  to  personal  friendshit) 
or  universal  benevolence.  His  memory  was  capacious  and  r*}- 
tentive,  his  wit  easy  and  social,  his  imagination  sublime,  bis 
judgment  clear,  rapid,  and  decisive. 

"  He  possessed  the  courage  both  of  thought  and  action ;  and, 
although  his  designs  might  gradually  expand  with  his  success, 
the  first  i)3ea  he  entertained  of  his  divine  mission  bcr.rs  the 
stamp  of  an  original  and  superior  genius.  The  son  of  Abdalla,h 
was  educated  in  the  bosom  of  the  noblest  race,  in  the  use  of  the 
purest  dialect;  and  the  fluency  of  his  speech  was  corrected  and 
enhanced  by  the  practice  of  discreet  and  seasonable  silence. 
With  these  powers  of  eloquence,  Mohammed  was  an  iHItcrate 
barbarian.  His  youth  had  never  been  instructed  in  the  arts  of 
reading  ar.d  vnritLng.  The  common  ignorance  exempted  him 
from  shame  and  reproach ;  but  he  was  reduced  to  a  narrow  circle 
of  existence,  and  deprived  of  those  faithful  mirrors  which  reflect 
to  our  mind  the  minds  of  sages  and  heroes." 

Mohammed,  like  Emanuel  Swedenborg,  accepted  both  the 
Old  and  New  Testament  as  of  divine  origin.  He  professed  the 
most  profound  reopect  for  both  Moses  and  Jesus  Christ  as  pro- 
phets sent  from  God.  "  Verily  Christ  Jesus,"  writes  Moham- 
med, "  the  son  of  Mary,  is  the  Apostle  of  God,  and  his  Word, 
which  he  conveyed  unto  Mary,  and  a  Spirit  proceeding  from 
him,  honorable  in  this  world  and  in  the  world  to  come,  and  one 
of  those  who  approach  near  to  the  presence  of  God."  ^ 

Our  Saviour  had  promised,  that,  after  his  departure  from  this 
world,  he  would  send  the  Paraclete,  or  Holy  Ghost,  sm  a  guide 
and  comforter  to  his  disciples.     "  But  when  the  Comforter  is 

'  Koran,  iii.  40. 


392  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

come,  wlioin  I  will  send  unto  you  ixom  the  Father,  the  Spirit 
of  truth,  which  proceedeth  from  the  Father,  he  shall  testify  of 
me."  *  Mohammed  assumed  that  he  was  this  divinely-commis- 
sioned Comforter.  The  Koran  was  produced  in  fragments  to 
meet  emergencies ;  and  it  was  not  until  two  years  after  the 
death  of  Mohammed  that  these  fragments  were  collected  in  a 
single  volume.  This  Koran  is  one  of  the  most  stupid  of  books, 
fall,  of  incoherent  rhapsody  and  turgid  declamation,  from  which 
it  is  difficult  to  extract  a  sentiment  or  an  idea.  Yery  few  men 
in  Christendom  have  found  patience  to  read  it. 

Mohammed  at  first  imposed  upon  his  disciples  the  daUy  obli- 
gation of  fifty  prayers.  Finding  this  too  onerous  to  be  borne, 
he  diminished  the  number  to  five,  which  were  to  be  performed 
daily,  regardless  of  any  engagements  or  any  surroundings. 
These  seasons  of  prayer  were  at  daybreak,  at  noon,  in  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon,  in  the  evening,  and  at  the  first  watch 
of .  the  night.  His  precepts  of  morality  were  drawn  from 
the  Old  and  New  Testaments.  Friday  was  appointed  as  the 
Mohammedan  sabbath,  and  vigorous  fasts  were  enforced.  AU 
intoxicating  drinks  were  positively  interdicted.  The  Mussul- 
man was  enjoined  to  conseci-ate  one-tenth  of  his  income  to  char- 
itable purposes.  The  doctrines  of  the  resurrection  and  the 
final  judgment  were  maintained. 

"  The  sword,"  says  Mohammed,  "  is  the  key  of  heaven  and 
of  hell.  A  drop  of  blood  shed  in  the  cause  of  God,  or  a  night 
spent  in  arms,  is  of  more  avail  than  two  months  of  fasting 
or  prayer.  Whoever  falls  in  battle,  his  sins  are  forgiven.  At 
the  day  of  judgment  his  wounds  shall  be  resplendent  as  ver- 
mibon,  and  odoriferous  as  musk;  and  the  loss  of  his  limbs 
shall  be  supplied  with  the  wings  of  angels  and  cherubim." 

This  remarkable  man  died  on  the  7th  of  June,  632.  His 
character  was  by  no  means  blameless  when  judged  by  the 
standard  of  Christianity.  Whenever  he  wished  to  indulge  •  in ' 
any  crime,  he  could  easily  find  a  fresh  revelation  authorizing 
him  to  do  so.  Major  Price,  after  the  most  careful  examination 
of  documentary  evidence,  speaks  as  fellows  of  his  death :  — 

1  John  XV.  ao. 


CENTURIES  OF   WAR  AND    WOE.  393 

^'  In  tracing  the  circumstances  of  Mohammed's  sickness,  we 
look  in  vain  for  any  proofs  of  that  meek  and  heroic  firmness 
which  might  be  expected  to  dignify  and  embellisn  the  last 
moments  of  the  apostle  of  God.  On  some  occasions  he  betrayed 
such  want  of  fortitude,  such  marks  cf  childish  impatience,  as 
are  in  general  to  be  found  in  men  only  of  the  most  ordinary 
stamp ;  and  such  as  extorted  from  his  wife  Ayesha,  in  particu- 
lar, the  sarcastic  remark,  that,  in  herself  or  any  of  her  family, 
a  similar  demeanor  would  long  since  have  incurred  his  severe 
displeasure.  He  said  that  the  acuteness  and  violence  of  his 
sufferings  were  necessarily  in  the  proportion  of  those  honors 
with  which  it  had  ever  pleased  the  hand  of  Omnipotence  to 
distinguish  its  peculiar  favorites."  ^ 

Immediately  after  the  death  of  Mohammed,  his  disciples 
pushed  their  conquests  with  amazing  energy.  In  the  course  of 
a  few  centuries,  they  overran  all  of  Egypt  and  of  Asia  Minor, 
and  established  the  most  stem  and  unrelenting  despotism  parth 
has  ever  known.  Their  military  organization  and  prowess  were 
such,  that  they  could  bring  into  the  field  a  more  powerful  army 
than  any  other  nation. 

They  crossed  the  Bosphorus  into  Europe,  and  stormed  Chric- 
tian  Constantinople  with  six  hundred  vessels  of  war  and  an 
army  of  three  hundred  thousand  troops.  Sixty  thousand  of 
the  inhabitants  of  Constantinople  were  massacred  in  cold  blood. 
The  Christian  maidens  were  dragged  shrieking  into  the  Mos- 
lem harems.  The  boys  of  tender  age  were  compelled,  under 
the  blows  ol  the  scourge  and  of  the  cimeter,  to  adopt  the  religion 
of  the  Prophet,  and  to  enlist  under  his  banner.  Thus  the 
whole  Eastern  or  Greek  empire  was  soon  blotted  out.  The 
crescent  of  Mohammed  supplanted  the  cross  of  C?  rist  over  all 
the  towers  of  the  imperial  city.  The  head  of  the  Christian 
was  crushed  by  the  heel  of  the  Turk. 

The  conqueror,  assuming  the  title  of  Mohammed  II.,  pre- 
pared to  invade  Italy.  It  was  his  boast  that  he  would  feed  his 
horse  from  the  altar  of  St.  Peter's,  in  Eome.  He  crossed  the 
Adriatic,  took  Otranto,  and  was  in  the  onward  career  of  vic- 

*  Price,  rol.  I.  p.  13. 


394  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

torjj  with  every  prospect  of  annexing  Italy  to  tlie  Mohamme- 
dan empir3,  when  he  died.  There  was  then  a  short  respite  for 
imperilled  Christendom.  But  soon  the  flood  of  Mohammedan 
invasion  rolled  up  the  Danube  in  surges  of  flame  and  blood. 
Year  after  year,  and  generation  after  generation,  the  valley  of 
this  majestic  stre?.ra  was  but  a  constant  battle-field,  where  Chris- 
tian and  Mosler::  grappled  each  other  in  the  death-struggle. 

One  of  these  marches  up  the  Danube  is  worthy  of  more 
minute  record.  It  was  leafy  June  :  luxuriant  foliage  and  gor- 
geous flowers  decorated  the  banks  of  the  river  with  loveliness 
which  attracted  the  admiration  even  of  semi-barbarian  eyes. 
The  turbulent  host,  counting  within  its  ranks  two  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  veteran  warriors,  for  many  days  sauntered  joy- 
ously along,  encountering  no  foe.  War  seemed  but  the  pastime 
of  a  festival-day.  Banners  floated  gayly  in  the  breeze  ;  music 
enlivened  the  n:?,rch.  Arabian  chargers  pranced  proudly 
beneath  their  riders,  glittering  in  Oriental  gorgeousness  of  cos- 
tume. A  fleet  of  ^ayly-decorated  barges  filled  the  stream,  im- 
pelled by  sails  when  the  wind  favored,  and  urged  by  rowers 
when  the  winds  were  adverse. 

Each  night,  upon  some  smooth  expanse  of  the  river's  banks, 
the  white  tents  of  the  invaders  were  spread,  and  a  city  of  nearly 
t\ro  hundred  thousand  inhabitants  rose  as  by  magic,  with  its 
grassy  streets  and  squares,  its  busy  population,  its  trumpet- 
peals  from  martial  bands,  and  its  bannered  magnificence  blaz- 
ing in  aU  the  regalia  of  war.  Like  a  fairy  vision  the  city  rose 
in  the  rays  of  the  declining  sun ;  and  like  a  vision  it  disap- 
peared in  th  3  early  dawn  of  the  morning,  and  the  mighty  host 
moved  on. 

But  the  black  day  came.  The  Turks  had  ascended  the  river 
about  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  when  they  came  to  a  small 
island  called  Zigeth.  It  was  strongly  fortified,  and  commanded 
both  banks  of  the  stream.  Not  another  mile  could  the  Mos- 
lems advance  till  this  fortress  was  battered  down.  Zrini,  the 
heroic  Christian  commander,  and  his  whole  garrison  of  six 
thousand  men,  took  an  oath  that  they  would  surrender  the  post 
va\j  with  their  lives. 


CENTURIES  OF  WAR  AND    WOE.  395 

Day  and  night,  week  after  week,  the  assault  continued  un- 
in Permitted.  The  besieged,  with  guns  in  battery  to  sweep  all 
approaches,  mowed  down  their  assailants  with  awful  carnage  ; 
but  bastion  after  bastion  was  crumbled  by  the  tremendous  can- 
nonade of  the  Moslems  :  the  walls  of  solid  masonry  were  bat- 
tered down  till  they  presented  but  a  shapeless  pile  of  rocks. 
The  Turks,  reckless  of  life,  like  swarming  bees  swept  over  tha 
smouldering  ruins.  They  had  apparently  cut  down  every  inmate 
of  the  fort ;  and,  with  shouts  of  victory,  were  raising  the  cres- 
cent over  t;he  blackened  and  blood-stained  rocks,  when  there 
was  an  earthqual^e  roar,  and  an  explosion  almost  as  appalling 
as  the  thunders  of  the  archangel's  trump. 

Zrini  had  fired  the  subterranean  vaults  containing  thousands 
of  kegs  of  powder.  The  whole  citadel — men,  horses,  rocks,  and 
artillery — was  thrown  into  the  air,  and  fell  a  commingled  mass 
of  ruin,  fire,  and  blood.  The  Turks,  having  lost  their  leader 
and  a  large  part  of  their  army,  retreated,  exhausted  and  bleed- 
ing, br.t  only  to  gather  strength  to  renew  the  strife. 

Thus  year  after  year  these  Moslem  assaults  were  continued. 
Such  were  the  measures  the  Turks  used  to  convert  Europe  to 
Mohammedanism ;  such  were  the  persuasions  urged  by  the 
missionaries  of  the  Koran.  Shortly  after  this,  the  banners  of 
the  advance-guard  of  the  Turkish  army  were  seen  even  from  tba 
steeples  of  Vienna:  the  majestic  host  invested  the  city  on  all 
sides. 

The  renowned  John  Zobieski,  King  of  Poland,  came  to  th  e 
rescue  with  sixty  thousand  men.  Uniting  with  the  German 
troops,  the  combined  army  feU  upon  the  invaders  with  almost 
frenzied  courage,  utterly  routed  them,  and  drove  them  in  wild 
disorder  back  to  Belgrade.  Still,  through  years  of  blood  and  woe, 
these  Moslem  assaults  were  continued.  The  conquering  armies 
of  the  Prophet  took  all  of  Asia,  Egypt,  Africa,  and  Greece.  They 
crossed  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar  from  Africa  into  Spain,  ovt^rran 
the  whole  Spanish  Peninsula,  and  hung  like  a  black  cloud  upon 
the  northern  cliffs  of  the  Pyrenees,  threatening  the  provinces 
of  France.  They  swept  both  banks  of  the  Danube  to  the  walls 
of  Vienna.     The  Austrian  royal  family  fled  at  midnight.     It 


396  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIAN  ITT. 

seemed  inevitable  that  all  Europe  was  to  be  overrun  by  the 
Moslems,  and  that  all  Christendom  was  to  be  cut  down  1  eneath 
their  bloody  cimeters. 

This  conflict  of  Mohammedanism  against  Christianity  con- 
tinued for  five  centuries.  At  one  time,  the  Austrian  ambas- 
sador at  Constantinople  wrote  to  the  Emperor  Ferdinand  in 
Vienna,  — 

"  When  I  compare  the  power  of  the  Turks  with  our  own, 
the  consideration  fills  me  with  dismay.  I  see  not  how  we  can 
resist  the  destruction  which  awaits  us.  They  possess  great 
wealth,  strength  unbroken,  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the  arts 
of  war,  patience,  union,  order,  frugality,  and  a  constant  state 
of  preparation. 

"  On  our  side  are  exhausted  finances  and  universal  luxiiry. 
Our  national  spirit  is  broken  by  mutinous  soldiers,  mercenary 
officers,  licentiousness,  intemperance,  and  a  total  contempt  ot 
military  discipline.  Is  it  possible  to  doubt  how  sue-,  an  un- 
equal conflict  must  terminate  ?  The  all-conquering  Mussul- 
mans will  soon  rush  with  undivided  strength,  and  overwhelm 
all  Europe  as  well  as  Germany." 

Such  was  the  career  and  the  final  menaces  of  Mohammedan- 
ism. But  the  Church  is  safe :  God  interposed  by  his  resist- 
less providences.  Mohammedanism,  everywhere  on  the  wane, 
exists  now  only  through  the  toleration  of  the  Christian  powers : 
it  is  ere  long  to  be  buried  in  the  same  grave  in  which  the  pa- 
ganism of  Greece  and  Rome  lies  mouldering  in  the  dust.  One 
foe  after  another  Satan  has  been  marshalling  against  Chris- 
tianity ;  but  ever,  though  sometimes  after  a  strife  truly  terrific, 
Christianity  has  come  off  the  victor.  Eighteen  centuries 
have  rolled  away  since  the  death  of  Christ ;  but  never  was 
Christianity  so  vigorous  and  efficient  a  power  in  the  world  as 
now. 

Mohammed  himself  ever  remembered  the  kindness  he  had 
received  in  the  Syrian  convent.  He  left  it  as  one  of  the  in- 
iunctions  of  the  Koran,  — 

"  Respect  all  religious  persons  who  live  in  hermitages  or 
convents,  and  spare  their  edifices ;  but,  should  you  meet  other 


CENTURIES  OF   WAR  AND    WOE.  397 

onbelievera  in  the  Prophet,  oe  sure  you  cleave  their  skulls  un- 
less they  embrace  the  true  faith." 

The  capture  of  Alexandria  by  the  Mohammedans  is  one  of 
the  most  renowned  events,  and  apparently  one  of  the  greatest 
calamities,  of  past  ages.  The  magnificent  city,  the  capital  of 
Egypt,  possessed  almost  fabulous  wealth.  It  contained  four 
thousand  palaces,  five  thousand  baths,  and  four  hundred  thea- 
t-.3S.  Its  library  surpassed  all  others  in  the  world  in  the  num- 
ber and  value  of  its  manuscripts.  The  Moslem  general  who 
had  captured  the  city  wrote  to  his  superior  at  Bagdad,  inquir- 
ing what  was  to  be  done  with  the  library.  The  bigot  returned 
the  reply,  — 

"  Either  what  those  books  contain  is  in  the  Koran,  or  it  ia 
not.  If  their  contents  are  in  the  Koran,  the  books  are  useless : 
if  they  are  not,  the  books  are  false  and  wicked.     Burn  them." 

The  whole  priceless  treasure,  containing  the  annals  of  mrv.iy 
past  centuries,  was  committed  to  the  flames.  The  irreparable 
loss  Christendom  will  ever  mourn. 

Nations  are  not  born,  and  do  not  die,  in  a  day.  During  sev- 
eral centuries,  Mohammedanism  was  rising  to  its  zenith  of 
power,  until  it  vied  with  ancient  Eome  in  the  extent  of  its 
territory,  the  invincibility  of  its  legions,  and  the  enormiLy  of 
its  luxury  and  corruption. 

The  seventh  century  was,  perhaps,  the  darkest  and  the  most 
hopeless,  so  far  as  the  prospects  of  humanity  were  concerned, 
of  any  since  the  birth  of  Christ.  When  the  eighth  century 
dawned,  several  hundred  years  of  war,  anarchy,  and  Lloovl,  had 
lingered  away  since  the  breaking-up  of  the  Roman  empire. 
The  people,  weary  of  anarchy  and  crushed  with  woe,  were  glad 
to  make  any  surrender  of  personal  liberty  for  the  sake  of  secu- 
rity. Females  sought  refuge  in  nunneries,  and  timid  me^  in 
monasteries :  bold  barons  built  their  impregnable  castles  an 
the  cliffs ;  and  defenceless  peasants  clustered  around  these  i.  laa- 
eive  fortresses  of  rock  for  protection  as  the  sheep  gather  around 
the  watch-dog. 

The  baron,  with  his  fierce  retainers  armed  to  the  teeth,  was 
ever  ready  to  do  battle.     The  serf  purchased  a  home  and  safety 


398  BISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

by  toiling  with  his  wife  and  children,  like  cattle  in  the  field, 
to  support  his  lord  and  his  armed  warriors.  Thus  feudalism 
was  the  child  of  necessity :  it  was  the  natural  outgrowth  of 
barbarous  times.  The  ruins  of  these  old  feudal  castles  are 
scattered  profusely  over  the  hillsides  and  along  the  romantic 
streams  of  Europe.  As  the  tourist  now  glides  in  the  steamer 
©ver  the  water  of  the  beautiful  Rhine,  where  the  "castled  crag 
of  Drachenfels  "  frowns  down  upon  the  scene  of  solitude  and 
biauty,  and  sees 

"  On  yon  bold  brow  a  lordly  tower, 
In  that  soft  vale  a  lady's  bower, 
In  yonder  meadow,  far  away, 
The  turrets  of  a  cloister  gray," 

creative  imagination  leaps  back  over  the  ages  which  are  gone, 
repairs  the  ruins,  digs  out  the  moat,  suspends  the  portcullis, 
stores  the  dungeon,  and  peoples  the  battlemented  towers  with 
armed  defenders.  Again  the  winding  of  the  bugle  echoes  over 
the  hills  and  the  val'e^'s,  warning  the  serfs  of  approaching 
dai  tjer.  We  see  the  rash  of  the  frightened  peasants  in  at  the 
massive  portals;  we  hear  the  clatter  of  iron  hoofs,  the  defiant 
challenge  pealing  from  the  trumpet :  the  eye  is  dazzled  with 
the  vision  of  waving  plumes  and  gilded  banners  as  steel-clad 
knights  sweep  by  like  a  whirlwind. 

Preathless  we  gaze,  in  fancy,  upon  the  attack  and  the  de- 
fence ;  listen  to  the  cry  of  onset,  and  to  the  resounding  blows 
upon  helmet  and  cuirass.  Heroic  courage,  chivalric  adventure, 
invest  the  crumbling  stones  with  life,  ouch  was  life  in  this 
sad  world  ten  centuries  ago. 

But,  through  all  these  tumults,  the  Church  of  Christ,  with 
many  mingling  imperfections,  was  rising  to  be  the  ruling  power 
on  earth.  In  seasons  of  anarchy,  the  community  is  ever  ready 
to  cast  itself  for  protection  into  the  arms  of  dictatorial  power. 
The  Church,  imperilled,  felt  its  need  of  a  dictator;  and  the 
Bishop  of  Rome,  by  almost  unanimous  consent,  became  its 
recognized  head.  The  Moslem  empire  had  swept  over  all  the 
East,  trampling  Eastern  Christians  in  the  dust.     The  few  dis- 


cejvturieis  of  war  and  woe.  399 

ciples  of  Jesus  who  in  those  regions  were  permitted  to  live 
were  exposed  to  the  most  humiliating  oppressions  and  insu'cj. 

It  was  in  the  year  732  that  Charles  Martel  met  the  Moslem 
host  near  Tours,  in  France,  to  fight  the  battle  which  apparently 
was  to  decide  the  fate  of  Europe.  Christianity  and  Moham- 
medanism met  on  that  field  in  their  greatest  strength.  The 
battle  which  ensued  was  one  of  the  most  terrific  which  eaith 
has  ever  known.  Victory  followed  the  banner  of  the  cross. 
The  annalists  of  those  days  declare  that  over  three  hundred 
thousand  Moslems  bit  the  dust  upon  that  bloody  field:  the 
remnant,  in  a  series  of  desperate  conflicts,  were  driven  pell- 
mell  over  the  Pyrenees,  across  the  whole  breadth  of  Spain,  and 
over  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar  into  Africa. 

As  we  traverse  these  weary  years  in  their  dull  monotony  cf 
woe,  we  occasionally  come  to  some  event  over  which  we  ctre 
constrained  to  pause  and  ponder.  Such  an  event  was  the  rise 
of  Charlemagne,  towards  the  close  of  the  eighth  century.  Hia 
name  has  reverberated  through  the  corridors  of  history  until  the 
present  day.  By  his  genius,  and  the  power  of  his  armies,  ha 
brought  two-thirds  of  all  Europe  under  his  sceptre.  He  created 
an  empire  almost  rivalling  that  of  the  Caesars.  Seated  in  his 
palace  at  Aix  la  Chapelle,  he  issued  his  orders,  which  scores  cf 
nations  obeyed.  Dukes,  princes,  counts,  became  his  subordi- 
nate officers,  whose  powers  were  limited  according  to  his  will. 

At  the  death  of  Charlemagne,  near  the  close  of  the  eighth 
century,  his  empire  broke  to  pieces  in  large  fragments.  Europe 
emerged  from  the  wreck,  organized  essentially  as  now.  The 
overthrow  of  the  ancient  Roman  empire  was  like  a  mountain 
crumbling  down  into  sand.  The  then  known  world  became 
but  a  vast  arena  for  the  conflict  of  petty  barbarous  tribes,  ever 
surging  to  and  fro.  The  demolition  of  the  empire  of  Charle- 
magne was  like  the  breaking-up  of  a  majestic  iceberg  into 
a  number  of  huge  islands,  each  floating  imperially  over  the 
waves,  defying  alike  gales  and  billows.  The  spiritual  empire 
of  the  Papacy  had  kept  pace  with  the  secular  empire  of  Charle- 
magne :  indeed,  the  Bishop  of  Rome  swayed  a  sceptre  before 
whose  power  e'^en  Charlemagne  himself  was  compelled  to  bow. 


400  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

As  a  temporal  ruler,  Charlemagne  had  no  rival  in  Europe. 
The  antechamber  of  this  great  European  conqueror  was  filled 
with  suppliant  kings.  Though  unlearned  himself,  he  did  all  in 
his  power  to  encourage  learning  throughout  his  realms.  He 
ordered  every  monastery  to  maintain  a  school ;  he  encouraged 
manufactures  and  agriculture ;  and  with  a  strong  arm  repressed 
violence,  that  all  branches  of  industry  might  be  secure  of  a 
reward.  It  was  during  his  reign  that  the  first  beU  was  cast  by 
the  monk  Tancho.  The  emperor  was  so  much  pleased  with  its 
sweet  and  solemn  tones,  that  he  ordered  it  to  be  placed  on  his 
'^apei  as  the  call  to  prayer.     Hence  the  origin  of  church-beUs. 

Until  nearly  the  ninth  century,  the  Island  of  Great  Britain 
was  essentially  a  barbaric  land,  filled  with  savage,  warring 
tribes.  Each  district  had  its  petty  clans  of  fierce  warriors,  ar- 
rayed against  each  other.  But  again  there  bursts  upon  Europe 
one  of  those  appalling  irruptions  of  barbarians  from  the  North 
which  seems  so  weird-like  and  supernatural. 

One  day,  Charlemagne  with  a  friend  was  st^'oding  upon  a 
cliff,  looking  out  upon  the  sea,  when  he  saw  quite  a  fleet  of 
galleys  passing  by.  "  They  are  traders,  probably,"  said  his  com- 
panion. "Ko,"  replied  Charlemagne  sadly:  "they  are  Norman 
pirates.  I  know  them.  /  do  not  fear  them ;  but,  when  I  am 
gone,  they  will  ravage  Europe." 

These  were  the  fierce  men  who  enslaved  the  Saxons  of  Britain, 
and  put  brass  collars  £  round  their  necks.  Descending  from  the 
islands  of  the  Baltic  and  the  mainlands  of  Denmark  and  Nor- 
way in  their  war-ships,  infuriated  by  a  fanatic  faith  which 
regarded  mercy  as  sin,  these  ferocious  warriors,  hardy  as  polar 
bears,  and  agile  as  wolves,  penetrated  every  bay,  river,  and 
creek,  sweeping  all  opposition  before  them.  Devastation,  car- 
nage, and  slavery  followed  in  their  train. 

The  monasteries  had  gradually  degenerated  into  institutions 
of  indolence  and  sensuality.  The  Normans  assailed  the  in- 
mates of  these  gloomy  retreats  with  the  most  relentless  cruelty. 
They  surrounded  with  their  armed  bands  these  cloistered  walls, 
and,  buiring  the  monks  within,  applied  the  torch,  and  danced 
and  sang  as  the  vast  pile  and  all  its  contents  were  wrapped  in 


CENTURIES  OF   WAR  AND   WOE.  401 

flames.  They  hated  a  religion  which  taught  (to  them  the  ab- 
surd doctrine)  that  man  was.  the  brother  of  his  fellow-man; 
that  the  strong  should  protect,  and  not  oppress,  the  weak ;  that 
we  should  forgive  our  enemies,  and  treat  kindly  those  who  in- 
jure us.  Like  incarnate  fiends,  they  took  special  pleasure  in 
putting  to  death,  through  every  form  of  torture,  the  teachers  of 
ft  religion  so  antagonistic  to  Ihoir  depraved  natures. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  the  world  at  the  commencement 
of  the  tenth  century.  Joyless  generations  came  and  passed 
away,  and  life  upon  this  sin-stricken  globe  could  have  been 
only  a  burden.  From  this  sketch,  necessarily  exceedingly  brief, 
it  will  be  seen  that  man  has  ever  been  the  most  bitter  foe  of 
his  brother-man.  Nearly  all  the  woea  of  earth  ara  now,  and 
ever  have  been,  caused  by  sin.  What  an  awfoi  tragedy  has  the 
history  of  this  globe  been ! 

Almost  with  anguish,  the  thoughtful  and  benevolent  mind 
inquires,  "  Is  there  to  be  no  end  to  this  ?  Is  humanity  forever 
to  be  plunged  into  the  abyss  of  crime  and  woe  ?  " 

It  would  seem  tlat  it  must  be  manifest  to  every  candid  mind 
that  there  can  be  no  possible  remedy  but  in  the  religion  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Love  God,  your  Father ;  love  man,  your  brother: 
these  are  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  gospel.  Every 
one  must  admit  that  the  universal  adoption  of  these  principles 
would  sweep  away  from  earth  nearly  all  its  sorrows.  Sin  and 
holiness  in  this  world  are  struggling  for  the  supremacy :  it 
is  a  fearful  conflict.  Every  individual  is  on  the  one  side  or  the 
other.  Some  are  more,  and  some  are  less  zealous.  But  there 
is  no  neutrality :  he  that  is  not  for  Christ  is  against  him. 

Is  there  not  an  influence  coming  down  to  us  through  these 
long  centuries  of  woe  potent  enough  to  induce  each  one  to 
declare,  "  As  for  me  and  my  house,  we  will  serve  the  Lord  "  ? 
Accept  the  religion  of  Jesus ;  live  in  accordance  with  its  teach- 
ings :  then  you  will  do  all  in  your  power  to  arrest  the  woes 
of  humanity ;  and,  when  Death  with  his  summons  shall  come, 
he  will  present  you  a  passport  which  will  secure  your  entranc* 
at  the  golden  gate  which  opens  to  the  paradise  of  God. 

26 


CHAPTEP.    XXI. 


THE   DARK   AGES. 


The  Anticipated  Second  Coming  of  Christ.  —  State  of  the  World  in  the  Tcs-th 
Century.  —  Enduring  Architecture.  —  Power  of  the  Papacy.  —  Vitality  of  the 
Christian  Religion.  —  The  Pope  and  the  Patriarch.  —  Intolerance  of  Hildebrand. 
—  Hiimiliation  of  the  Emperor  Henry  IV.—  Farewell  Letter  of  Monomaque.— 
The  Crusades.  — Vladimir  of  Russia.  — His  Introduction  of  Christianity  to 
his  Realms.  —  Marriage  with  the  Christian  Princess  Anne.  —  Extirpation  of 
Paganism.  —  The  Baptism.  —  The  Spiritual  Conversion  of  Vladimir 


'HERE  had  gradually  arisen  aa  Utmost  universal 
impression  in  the  Church,  that,  in  just  a  thou- 
sand years  after  the  advent  of  Christ,  the  world 
was  to  come  to  an  end.  Notwithstanding  the 
emphatic  declaration  of  Jesus,  that  not  even  the 
angels  in  heaven  know  the  period  of  his  second 
coming,  through  all  the  ages  of  the  Church  indi- 
viduals have  been  appe'aring  who  have  fixed  upon  a  particular 
year  when  Christ  was  to  come  in  clouds  of  glory. 

The  year  of  our  Lord  999  was  one  of  very  solemn  import. 
There  was  a  deep-seated  impression  throughout  all  Christen- 
dom that  it  was  to  be  the  last  year  of  time ;  and,  indeed,  all  the 
signs  in  the  heavens  above  and  on  the  earth  beneath  indicated 
that  event.  There  was  almost  universal  anarchy,  —  no  law,  no 
government,  no  safety,  anywhere.  There  were  wars,  and  rumors 
of  wars.  Sin  abounded.  There  were  awful  famines,  followed 
by  the  fearful  train  of  pestilence  and  death.  The  land  was  left 
untilled.  There  was  no  motive  to  plant  when  the  harvest  could 
never  be  gathered.     The  houses  were  left  to  fall  into  decay. 

402 


TUB  DARK  AGES.  403 

Why  make  improvements,  when  in  one  short  month  they  might 
be  swallowed  up  in  a  general  conflagration  ? 

It  is  an  almost  inexplicable  peculiarity  of  human  wicked- 
ness, that  danger  ^nd  death  are  often  the  most  intense  incen- 
tives to  reckless  sin.  While  Christians  were  watching  and 
praying  for  the  coming  of  the  Saviour  to  bring  to  a  triumphal 
close  this  fearfal  tragedy  of  earth  and  time,  the  godless  sur- 
rendered themselves  to  all  excesses,  and  shouted,  "  Let  us  eat 
and  drink ;  for  to-morrow  we  die ! " 

The  condition  of  society  became  quite  unendurable.  Rob- 
bers frequented  every  wood:  in  strong  bands  they  ravaged 
villages,  and  even  waUed  towns.  As  all  were  consuming,  and 
few  were  producing,  provisions  soon  disappeared.  Despair 
gave  loose  to  every  passion.  In  many  places  the  famine  was 
Bo  severe,  that,  when  even  rats  and  mice  could  no  longer  be 
procured,  human  flesh  was  sold  in  the  markets :  women  and 
children  were  actually  killed  and  roasted. 

But,  while  many  were  thus  stimulated  to  awful  depravity, 
others,  inspired  by  Christian  principle,  were  impelled  to  prayer, 
and  to  every  exercise  of  devotion  which  those  dark  days  taught 
them  could  be  acceptable  to  God.  Kings,  in  several  cases,  laid 
aside  their  crowns,  and,  as  hizmble  monks,  entered  the  monas- 
teries, performing  all  the  most  onerous  and  humiliating  duties 
of  midnight  vigils,  fastings,  penances,  and  prayers. 

Henry,  the  Emperor  of  Germany,  entered  the  Abbey  of  St. 
Vanne  as  a  monk.  The  holy  father  in  charge,  who  was  truly 
a  good  man,  enlightened  and  conscientious,  received  the  empe- 
ror reluctantly.  After  much  remonstrance,  he,  however,  admin- 
istered the  oath  by  which  the  monarch  vowed  implicit  obedience 
to  the  authority  of  his  spiritual  superior. 

"Sire,"  said  this  good  monk  to  the  emperor,  "you  are  now 
under  my  orders :  you  have  taken  a  solemn  oath  to  obey  me. 
I  command  you  to  retire  immediately  from  the  convent,  and  to 
resume  the  sceptre.  Fulfil  the  duties  of  the  kingly  state  to 
which  God  has  called  you.  Go  forth  a  monk  of  the  Abbey  of 
St.  Vanne ;  but  resume  your  responpibilities  as  Emperor  of 
Germany." 


404  HISTORY  OF  CURISTIANITT. 

The  -emperor  obeyed  wi^h  simplicity  of  trust,  and  nobility 
of  character,  which  have  commfjided  the  respect  of  all  subse- 
quent ages. 

Eobert,  King  of  France,  son  of  the  illustrious  Hugh  Capet, 
entered  the  Abbey  of  St.  Denis.  Here  he  became  one  of  the 
choir  of  the  church,  singing  hymns  and  psalms  of  his  own 
composition.  Many  of  the  nobles  emancipated  their  slaves, 
and  bestowed  large  sums  in  charity,  —  benevolence,  indeed, 
which  did  not,  perhaps,  require  a  large  exercise  of  self-denial,  if 
sincere  in  their  belief  that  the  fires  were  just  ready  to  burst 
out  which  were  to  wrap  the  world  in  flames. 

As  the  year  999  drew  near  its  end,  men  almost  held  theii 
breath  to  watch  the  result.  For  a  whole  generation,  all  the 
pulpits  of  Christendom  had  been  ringing  with  the  text,  — 

"  And  he  laid  hold  on  the  dragon,  that  old  serpent,  which 
ie  the  Devil  and  Satan,  and  bound  him  a  thousand  years,  and 
cast  him  into  the  bottomless  pit,  and  shut  him  up,  and  set  a 
seal  upon  him,  that  he  should  deceive  the  nations  no  more ; 
and,  after  that,  he  must  be  loosed  a  little  season."  ^ 

But  the  dawn  of  the  eleventh  century  rose,  and  all  things 
continued  as  they  were  from  the  beginning  of  the  creation. 
Christians,  finding  that  the  world  was  not  coming  to  an  end, 
rallied  for  more  energetic  effort  to  make  the  world  better.  All 
Christendom  combined  in  the  crusades  to  arrest  the  progress 
of  Mohammedanism,  and  to  reclaim  the  Holy  Land  from 
Mohammedan  sway.  The  churches  were  repaired.  Stately 
cathedrals  rose,  —  those  massive  piles  of  imposing  architecture 
which  are  still  the  pride  of  Europe. 

The  impression  that  the  world  was  to  be  stable  for  some 
centuries  longer  led  to  the  projection  of  buildings  on  the  most 
gigantic  scale  and  of  the  most  durable  materials.  Archi- 
tecture became  a  science  which  enlisted  the  energies  of  the 
ablest  minds ;  and  here  originated  that  Gothic  architecture 
80  much  admired  even  at  the  present  day.  The  foundations 
of  these  time-defying  edifices  were  broad  and  deep ;  the  walls 
of  immense  thickness  ;  the  roofe  steep,  effectually  to  shed  raia 

>  Rev.  XX.  2.  S. 


THE  DARK  AGES.  405 

aad  snow ;  the  towers  square,  buttressed  to  sustain  the  churcl, 
and  also  to  afford  means,  then  so  necessary,  of  military  de- 
fence. 

The  castle  of  the  noble  rose  by  the  same  impulse  which 
seared  such  majestic  sacred  edifices.  Thus  Melrose  and  Ken- 
liworth,  Heidelberg  and  Drachenfels,  came  into  being. 

In  France  alone,  at  the  beginning  of  the  eleventh  century, 
there  were  a  thousand  four  hundred  and  thirty-four  monas- 
teries. Poverty  was  universal.  The  cottages  of  the  peasants 
were  mere  hovels,  without  windows,  damp  and  airless,  — 
wretched  kennels  in  which  the  joyless  inmates  crept  to  sleep. 
By  the  side  of  these  abodes  of  want  and  woe  the  church  rose 
in  pab.tial  splendor,  with  its  massive  walls,  its  majestic  spire, 
its  spacious  aisles,  and  its  statuary  and  paintings,  which  charmed 
the  docile  and  unlettered  multitude.  The  whole  population 
of  the  village  could  assemble  beneath  its  vaulted  ceiling.  It 
was  the  poor  man's  palace :  he  felt  that  it  belonged  to  him. 
There  he  received  his  bride.  In  the  churchyard  he  laid  his 
dead.  The  church-bell  rang  merrily  on  festal-days,  and  tolled 
sadly  when  sorrow  crushed.  Life's  burden  weighed  heavily  on 
all  hearts.  To  the  poor,  unlettered,  ignorant  peasant,  the 
church  was  every  thing :  its  religious  pageants  pleased  his  eye ; 
the  church-door  was  ever  open  for  his  devotions ;  the  sanctu- 
ary was  his  refuge  in  danger ;  its  massive  grandeur  filled  his 
heart  with  pride  ;  its  gilded  shows  and  stately  ceremonies 
took  the  place  of  amusements ;  the  officiating  priests  and 
bishops  presented  to  his  reverential  eyes  an  aspect  almost 
divine. 

We  see  the  remains  of  this  deep  reverence  in  the  attach- 
ment to  their  forms  of  religion  of  nearly  all  the  peasantry  of 
Catholic  Europe  at  the  present  day.  The  Church,  with  its 
imposing  ceremonies,  hallowed  to  them  by  all  the  associations 
of  childhood  and  by  the  traditions  of  past  generations,  stiU 
exerts  over  them  a  power  which  seems  almost  miraculous. 

The  wonderful  vitality  which  there  is  in  the  Church  of 
Christ,  and  the  amazing  influence  which  the  teachings  of  Jesus 
exert  over  the  human  mind,  are  in  nothing  more  remarkable 


406  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

than  in  the  stability  with  which  Christianity  and  its  doctrinea 
survive  all  the  ordinary  changes  of  time.  Dynasties  rise  and 
fall  like  ocean-waves,  leaving  no  perceptible  influence  behind 
them;  but  Christianity  rides  over  all  these  storms  of  time 
with  immortal  life.  The  E-oman  empire  crumbles  to  dustj 
the  Eastern  and  Western  empires  moulder  away ;  the  Gothic 
kingdoms  appear,  and  vanish  like  a  vision  of  the  night ;  the 
Vandals  and  the  Huns,  the  Ostrogoths  and  the  Normans,  flit 
across  the  scene,  each  with  their  brief  span  of  life. 

Yet  Christianity,  like  the  sun  struggling  through  the  clouds 
of  a  stormy  day,  calmly,  steadily,  surely,  continues  on  its  course. 
Though  a  storm-cloud  may  transiently  obscure  its  brightness, 
nothing  can  impede  its  onward  progress ;  and,  at  the  present 
day,  Christianity,  triumphant  over  all  the  conflicts  of  centuries, 
shines  brighter,  clearer,  with  more  world-wide  healing  in  its 
beams,  than  ever  before. 

The  Bishop  of  Eome  had  become  the  recognized  head  of  the 
Western  Church.  Wielding  both  temporal  and  spiritual  power, 
the  pope  towered  in  dignity  above  all  the  monarchs  of  Europe. 
Towards  the  close  of  the  eleventh  century,  Hildebrand,  with 
the  title  of  Gregory  VII.,  occupied  the  pontifical  chair.  Henry 
IV.,  Emperor  of  Germany,  claimed  the  right  of  appointing 
bishops  in  his  own  realms.  The  pope  haughtily  summoned 
the  emperoi  immediately  to  repair  to  his  presence  in  Rome, 
and  answer  for  his  conduct.  Henry,  indignant  at  such  an 
insult,  issued  a  decree  declaring  Gregory  VII.  no  longer  worthy 
of  being  regarded  as  pope. 

In  retaliation,  the  exasperated  pontiff  excommunicated  the 
emperor,  deposing  him  from  his  throne,  and  prohibiting  his 
subjects,  under  pain  of  eternal  damnation,  from  supporting 
the  emperor,  '>r  from  ministering  in  any  way  to  his  wants. 
The  superstitious  people,  believing  that  the  pope  had  entire 
power  to  send  them  all  to  heU,  in  their  terror  simultaneously 
and  universally  abandoned  the  emperor.  No  servant  dared  to 
engage  in  his  employ ;  no  soldier  dared  to  serve  under  his  ban- 
ner. The  emperor  found  himself  in  an  hour  utterly  crushed 
and  helpless.  The  pope  summoned  a  congress,  and  appointed 
another  emperor  in  the  place  of  his  deposed  victim. 


THE  DARK  AGES.  407 

Henry,  finding  himself  thus  overwhelmed  beyond  all  possi- 
bility of  resistance,  in  dismay  and  despair  crossed  the  Alps  in 
the  dead  of  winter  to  throw  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  offended 
pontiff,  and  implore  forgiveness.  Gregory  VII.  was  then  at 
the  Castlo  of  Canossa,  in  Tuscany.  For  three  days,  in  mid- 
winter, the  abject  monarch  stood  a  suppliant  at  the  gate  of  ih.e 
castle  before  he  could  be  admitted.  Barefoot,  bareheaded,  and 
clothed  in  a  woollen  shirt,  he  was  compelled  thus  to  wait,  dij 
after  day,  that  all  might  witness  his  abject  humiliation.  At 
length,  the  haughty  pontiff  consented  to  grant  absolution  to 
the  humiliated  and  penitent  emperor. 

The  extravagance  of  the  claims  of  Ilildebrand  seem  to' 
approach  insanity.  He  published  a  collection  of  maxims, 
which  is  still  extant.  Among  them  are  the  following,  which 
evince  his  spirit,  and  the  arrogance  of  the  papacy  at  that 
day:  — 

"  There  is  but  one  name  in  the  world ;  and  that  is  the  pope's. 
All  princes  ought  to  kiss  his  feet.  He  alone  can  nominate  or 
displace  bishops,  or  dissolve  councils.  Nobody  can  judge  him. 
He  has  never  er-.-ed,  and  never  shall  err  in  tims  to  come.  He 
can  depose  princes,  and  release  subjects  from  their  oaths  of 
fidelity." 

All  the  monarclis  of  Europe  sustained  these  as'^umptions  of 
the  pope ;  for,  by  sustaining  them,  they  eaeily  held  their  sub- 
jects under  perfect  control.  Nothing  can  be  conceived  more 
awful  than  was  then  the  idea  of  excommunication  to  the  popu- 
lar mind.  It  exposed  one  to  almost  all  possible  misery  in  this 
world,  and  to  the  eternal  flames  of  hell  in  the  next. 

One  becomes  weary  of  the  recital  of  the  crimes  and  woes  of 
those  days.  There  is,  however,  one  truth  which  stands  forth 
prominent  from  every  page  of  history :  it  is,  that  in  the  reli- 
gion of  Jesus  alone  can  be  found  the  remedy  for  the  ills  of 
earth;  it  is  the  democracy  of  the  gospel,  the  recognition  of 
the  brotherhood  of  man,  where  only  is  to  be  found  hope  for  the 
world.  Forms  of  government  are  of  little  avail  so  long  as  the 
men  who  wield  those  forms  are  selfish  and  depraved.  Gov- 
ernments will  become  better  only  so  fast  as  th«j  men  who  admin- 
ister them  become  better. 


408  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

It  is  one  of  tlie  signal  developments  of  human  depravity 
that  men  will  reject  and  oppose  the  religion  of  Jesus  because 
bad  men,  assuming  the  Christian  name,  ignore,  and  trample 
beneath  their  feet,  all  the  teachings  of  the  gospel.  Christianity 
advocates  every  thing  that  is  lovely  and  of  good  report,  urging 
all  "to  do  justly,  to  love  mercy,  and  to  walk  humbly  with 
God ; "  to  visit  the  widow  and  fatherless  in  their  affliction,  and 
to  keep  himself  unspotted  from  the  world;"  while  at  the  same 
time  it  denounces,  under  penalty  of  the  divine  displeasure,  every 
act  which  is  not  consistent  with  love  to  God  and  love  to  man. 

Notwithstanding  papal  pride  and  corruption,  the  spirit  of 
Christ,  in  those  dyrk  ages,  was  beautifully  developed  in  thou- 
sands of  hearts,  among  the  lofty  as  well  as  among  the  lowly. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  false  religion  now,  a  great  deal  of  ritu- 
alistic pomp  and  of  empty  profession.  It  was  so  then.  Still, 
everywhere,  then  as  now,  could  be  seen  the  most  attractive 
evidences  of  the  power  of  true  religion.  Devoted  missionaries 
had  penetrated  the  most  remote  and  savage  wilds ;  and  not  a 
few  who  wore  regal  crowns  and  ducal  coronets  were  numbered 
among  the  disciples  of  Jesus. 

On  the  19th  of  May,  1126,  Monomaque,  one  of  the  most 
renowned  of  the  early  sovereigns  of  semi-barbaric  Russia,  died 
at  the  age  of  seventy-six.  He  had  developed  a  very  beautiful 
character,  often  praying  with  a  trembling  voice  and  tearful 
eyes  for  suffering  humanity.  Just  before  he  fell  asleep  in 
Jesus,  he  wrote  a  farewell  letter  to  his  sons  and  daughters. 
The  letter  was  written  in  the  Palace  of  Kief,  nearly  a  thousand 
years  ago,  and  is  still  preserved  on  parchment  in  the  archives 
of  the  monarchy.  Every  reader  will  admire  its  truly  Chris- 
tian spirit. 

"  My  dear  children,"  he  wrote,  "  the  foundation  of  all  reli- 
gion is  the  love  of  God  and  the  love  of  man.  Obey  your 
heavenly  Father ;  and  love  man,  your  brother.  It  is  not  fast- 
ing, it  is  not  monastic  seclusion,  which  will  confer  the  favor  of 
God :  it  is  doing  good  to  your  brother-man.  Never  forget  the 
poor :  take  care  of  them.  Do  not  hoard  up  riches :  that  is  con- 
trary to  the  teachings  of  our  Saviour.     Be  a  father  to  orphans ; 


TEE  DARK  AGES.  409 

protect  widowa ;  and  never  permit  the  powerful  t'"  oppress  the 
weak. 

"Abstain  from  every  thing  that  is  wrong.  Banish  from 
j^our  heart  all  pride.  Kemember  that  we  all  must  die :  to-day 
full  of  life,  to-morrow  in  the  tomb.  When  you  are  travelling 
on  horseback,  instead  of  allowing  your  mind  to  wander  upon 
vain  thoughts,  recite  your  prayers,  or  at  least  repeat  the  best 
of  them  all :   '0  Lord !  have  mercy  upon  us.' 

"Never  retire  at  night  without  falling  upon  your  knees 
before  God  in  prayer.  Always  go  to  church  at  an  early  hour 
in  the  morning  to  offer  to  God  the  homage  of  your  first  and 
freshest  thoughts.  This  was  the  custom  of  my  father,  and  of 
all  the  pious  people  who  surrounded  him.  With  +he  first  rays 
of  the  sun  they  praised  the  Lord,  and  exclaimed  with  fervor, 
'  Condescend,  0  Lord !  with  thy  Divine  Spirit  to  illumine  my 
soul.' " 

Near  the  commencement  of  the  twelfth  century,  nearly  all 
Christendom  combined  for  the  recovery  of  Jerusalem  and 
the  Holy  Land  from  the  Moslems.  The  crusades  are  generally 
regarded  as  among  the  strangest  of  all  earthly  frenzies.  In 
the  first  crusade,  a  rabble,  unorganized  band  of  three  hundred 
thousand  persons,  of  all  ages  and  both  sexes,  set  out  on  an 
insane  expedition  to  drive  out  of  Syria  the  warlike  Moslems. 
Though  the  crusaders  deemed  their  enterprise  a  sacred  one, 
their  conduct  was  often  such  as  could  scarcely  have  been 
exceeded  in  wickedness  by  incarnate  fiends.  Not  one  of  those 
who  embarked  in  this  first  crusade  ever  reached  Jerusalem : 
only  a  remnant  of  about  twenty  thousand,  after  extreme  suffer- 
ings, ragged  and  starving,  regained  their  homes.  The  well- 
armed  and  organized  Turks  cut  down  the  fanatic  rabble  as 
the  mower  does  the  grass. 

The  next  year  there  was  another  campaign  commenced, 
still  more  imposing  in  numbers,  and  a  little  more  formidable 
in  warlike  character.  All  the  steel-clad  knights  of  Europe 
mounted  their  chargers,  eager  to  gain  and  to  win  the  favor  of 
Heaven  by  the  sh-.ughter  of  the  infidel  Turk.  Six  hundred 
thousand  men  —  as  motley  an  assemblage  as  ignorance  and 


410  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

fanaticism  ever  brou^'ht  together  —  commenced  their  march 
across  Europe  to  the  Holy  Land.  Trusting  that  they  should 
receive  supernatural  aid,  they  made  hut  slight  provision  foi 
their  want.'.  Soon  all  the  horses  died :  famine  and  sickness 
decimated  their  ranks.  There  was  no  discipline,  no  self-com- 
mand; and  the  wildest  excesses  reigned.  Their  track  waa 
strewn  with  the  bodies  of  the  dead. 

As  they  drew  near  to  Jerusalem,  their  numbers  had  dwin- 
dled to  sixty  thousand ;  but  these  were  the  boldest,  the  strong- 
est, the  hardiest.  With  energy  which  religious  enthusiasm 
alone  could  inspire,  they  hurled  themselves  upon  the  defences 
of  Jerusalem,  broke  open  the  gates,  clambered  the  walls,  and, 
after  a  scene  of  awful  carnage,  succeeded  in  recapturing  the 
city.  This  was  in  July,  1099.  Of  the  vast  army  which  had 
left  Europe,  not  ten  thousand  survived  to  return  to  their  native 
land. 

Though  Jerusalem  was  taken,  there  were  many  portions  of 
Palestine  still  in  the  hands  of  the  Moslems.  The  insane  idea 
then  arose  of  o::ganizing  a  crusade  of  children  against  them. 
Fanaticism  afSrmed  that  Christ  would  interpose  in  their  be- 
half, and  give  the  weak  a  victory  over  the  strong ;  thus  show- 
ing how  God,  out  cf  the  mouths  of  babes  and  sucklings,  could 
perfect  his  praise.  It  seems  almost  incredible,  but  it  is  appar- 
ently well  authenticated,  that  ninety  thousand  boys,  of  but  ten 
or  twelve  years  of  age,  commenced  their  march  across  Europe 
to  present  their  innocence  and  helplessness  to  the  cimeter  of 
the  bearded  Turk. 

"  When  the  madness  of  the  time,"  writes  Kev.  James  White, 
"had  origin<i,ted  a  crusade  of  children,  and  ninety  thousand 
boys,  of  but  ten  or  twelve  years  of  age,  had  commenced  their 
journey,  singing  hymns  and  anthems,  and  hoping  to  conquer 
the  infidels  wi'h  the  spiritual  arms  of  innocence  and  prayer, 
the  whole  band  melted  away  before  they  reached  the  coast. 
Barons  and  counts,  and  bishops  and  dukes,  all  swooped  down 
upon  the  devoted  march;  and,  before  many  weeks'  journey- 
ing was  achieved,  the  crusade  was  brought  to  a  close.  Most 
of  the  children  had  died  of  fatigue  or  starvation ;  and  the 


THE  DARK  AGES.  411 

survivors  had  been  seized  as  legitimate  prey,  and  sold  as 
slaves."  '^ 

The  introduction  of  Christianity  into  Russia  early  in  the 
eleventh  century  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  events  in  the 
history  of  the  Church.  Vladimir  the  king,  a  pagan,  but  a 
thoughtful  man,  had  heard  of  Christianity,  and  became  anxious 
respecting  his  own  destiny  beyond  the  grave.  He  made  ear- 
nest inquiries  of  the  teachers  of  all  forms  of  religion  respect- 
ing their  peculiar  tenets. 

He  summoned  the  Mohammedan  doctors  from  Bulgaria,  the 
Jews  from  Jerusalem,  and  Christian  bishops  from  the  Papal 
Church  at  Rome  and  the  Greek  Church  at  Constantinople. 
He  soon  rejected  the  systems  of  Jews  and  of  the  Mohammed- 
ans as  unworthy  of  further  consideration,  but  was  undecided 
respecting  the  apparently-conflicting  schemes  of  Rome  and 
Constantinople. 

He  therefore  selected  ten  of  the  wisest  men  in  his  kingdom, 
and  sent  them  to  visit  Rome,  and  then  Constantinople,  and 
report  in  which  country  divine  worship  was  conducted  in  % 
manner  most  worthy  of  the  Supreme  Being.  The  ambassa- 
dors seem  to  have  made  a  very  thorough  investigation  in  both 
capitals.  Upon  their  return  to  Kief,  they  reported  in  favor  of 
the  faith  and  ceremonies  of  the  Greek  Church.  The  king, 
still  undecided,  and  impressed  with  the  importance  of  the 
measures  upon  which  he  had  entered,  assembled  a  number  of 
his  most  virtuous  and  distinguished  nobles,  and  took  counsel 
of  them.    Their  voices  also  were  in  favor  of  the  Greek  Church. 

This  wonderful  event  is  well  authenticated.  Nestor  gives  a 
recital  of  it  in  its  minute  details.  An  old  Greek  manuscript, 
preserved  in  the  royal  library  of  Paris,  records  the  visit  of 
these  ambassadors  to  both  Rome  and  Constantinople. 

There  must  have  been  a  commingling  of  many  motives 
which  influenced  Vladimir  in  his  course.  He  had  been  a  very 
wicked  man.  He  had  sought,  but  in  vain,  to  appease  the 
gnawings  of  conscience  by  the  debasing  rites  of  paganism. 
Some  light  from  Christianity  had  reached  his  mind,  as  Chris- 

>  Eighteen  Christian  Centuries,  p.  269 


412  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY 

tian  missionaries  occasionally  traversed  his  semi-barbaric  realms, 
Indeed,  tbe  gospel  had  been  already  preached  in  idolatroua 
Kief,  and  some  converts  had  been  won  to  it.  Vladimir  had 
also  sufficient  intelligence  to  perceive  that  the  paganism  into 
which  his  realms  were  plunged  was  brutalizing.  It  is  not 
probable  that  thus  far  he  had  been  the  subject  of  a  change 
of  heart :  it  was  merely  a  change  of  policy,  —  an  intellectual 
rather  than  a  spiritual  transformation. 

Having  resolved  to  renounce  paganism,  and  to  adopt  Chris- 
tianity, he  deemed  it  important  that  the  event  should  be 
accompanied  with  pageantry  so  imposing  as  to  produce  a  deep 
impression  upon  his  simple  and  ignorant  subjects.  The  ex- 
traordinary measures  he  adopted  show  how  little  'he  then  com- 
prehended the  true  spirit  of  Christianity. 

He  assembled  an  immense  army ;  with  it  descended  the 
Dneiper  in  boats ;  sailed  across  the  Black  Sea ;  and  entering  the 
Gulf  of  Cherson,  near  Sevastopol,  after  several  bloody  battles 
took  military  possession  of  the  Crimea.  Thus  victorious,  he 
sent  J«n  embassage  to  Basil  and  Constantine,  the  two  emperors 
then  unitedly  reigning  at  Constantinople,  announcing  that  he 
wished  the  young  Christian  Princess  Anne,  daughter  of  one 
of  the  emperors,  for  his  bride  ;  and  that,  if  she  were  not  imme- 
diately sent  to  him,  he  would  advance  upon  Constantinople,  ?.nd 
utterly  destroy  the  city. 

The  emperors,  trembling  in  view  of  this  menace,  which  they 
were  conscious  they  had  not  the  power  to  avert,  after  much 
anxious  deliberation  returned  the  answer,  that  they  would 
accede  to  his  request  if  he  would  first  embrace  Christianity. 
To  this  proposition  Vladimir  cordially  assented,  as  it  was 
quite  in  accordance  with  his  plans.  He,  however,  demanded 
that  the  Princess  Anne  should  be  sent  immediately  to  him, 
stating  that  he  would  be  baptized  at  the  time  of  his  nuptials. 

The  unhappy  maiden  was  overwhelmed  with  anguish  in 
view  of  what  appeared  to  her  a  dreadful  doom.  She  regarded 
the  pagan  Russians  as  ferocious  savages,  and  would  have  pre- 
ferred repose  in  the  grave  to  her  union  with  Vladimir.  But 
policy,  which  is  the  religion  of  cabinets,  demanded  the  saori- 


THE  DARK  AGES.  418 

fice.  The  princesSj  weeping  in  despair,  was  conducted  to  the 
camp  of  Vladimir,  accompanied  by  several  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished ecclesiafet:.ce  and  nobles  of  the  empire.  She  was 
received  with  the  most  gorgeous  demonstrations  of  rejoicing. 
The  whole  army  was  drawn  up  in  battle-array  to  add  the  bril- 
liancy of  military  pageantry  to  nuptial  festivities. 

The  ceremony  of  baptizing  the  king  was  performed  in  the 
church  of  Basil,  in  the  city  of  Cherson.  Immediately  after 
this  ceremony,  the  marriage-rites  with  the  princess  were  sol- 
emnized. Vladimir  ordered  a  large  church  to  be  built  at 
Cherson  in  memory  of  his  visit.  He  then  returned  to  Kief 
with  the  bride  whom  the  sword  and  diplomacy  had  won,  tak- 
ing with  him  several  preachers  distinguished  for  their  elo- 
quence. He  also  obtained  from  Constantinople  a  communion- 
service  wrought  in  the  most  graceful  proportions  of  Grecian 
art,  and  also  several  exquisite  specimens  of  statuary,  that  h© 
might  inspire  his  subjects  with  a  love  for  the  beautiful. 

With  great  docility  the  king  accepted  the  Christian  teachers 
as  his  guides,  and  devoted  himself  with  untiring  energy  to 
the  work  of  abolishing  idolatry  and  establishing  Christianity 
throughout  his  realms.  Vigorous  and  sagacious  measures  were 
adopted  to  throw  contempt  upon  the  ancient  paganism.  The 
idols  were  collected,  and  burned  in  huge  bonfires  amidst  the 
derisive  shoutings  of  the  people.  The  statue  of  Peroune,  the^ 
most  illustrious  of  the  pagan  gods,  was  dragged  ignominiously 
through  the  streets  with  a  rope  round  its  neck,  followed  by 
the  hooting  multitude  pelting  it  with  mud  and  scourging  it 
with  whips ;  until  at  last,  battered  and  defaced,  it  was  dragged 
to  the  top  of  a  precipice,  and  tumbled  headlong  into  the  river. 

Vladimir  now  issued  a  decree  to  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
capital  and  of  all  the  adjoining  region  to  repair  to  the  banks 
of  the  Dneiper,  in  the  vicinity  of  Kief,  to  be  baptized.  The 
rich  and  the  poor,  the  nobles  and  the  serfs,  were  alike  sum- 
moned. At  the  appointed  day  the  multitude  assembled  by 
tens  of  thousands,  and  crowded  the  banks  of  the  stream.  The 
emperor  himself  at  length  appeared,  accompanied  by  a  large 
number  of   ecclesiastics  from  Constantinople.     He  took  his 


414  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Beat  upon  an  elevated  throne  tliat  lie  might  witness  the 
imposing  ceremonies. 

At  a  given  signal,  the  whole  multitude  waded  slowly  into 
the  stream.  Some  boldly  advanced  up  to  their  necks  ;  others, 
more  timid,  ventured  only  up  to  their  waists.  Fathers  and 
mothers  led  their  children  by  the  hand.  When  all  were 
standing  quietly  in  the  stream,  the  clergy  upon  the  shore 
offered  baptismal  prayers,  chanted  hymns  of  thanksgiving,  and 
then  declared  that  all  were  Christians,  having  been  baptized 
in  the  name  of  the  ITather,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  The  multitude  then  came  up  from  the  water  nominal 
Christians. 

Vladimir,  who  was  sincere  and  truthful  in  all  these  strange 
movements,  was  in  a  transport  of  joy.  Profoundly  excited  by 
the  sublimity  of  the  scene,  he  raised  his  flooded  eyes  to  heaven, 
and,  with  great  fervor,  offered  the  following  simple  and  touch- 
ing prayer : — 

"  0  thou  Creator  of  heaven  and  earth !  extend  thy  blessing 
lo  these  thy  new  children.  May  they  know  thee  as  the  true 
God,  and  be  strengthened  by  thee  in  the  true  religion  !  Come 
to  my  help  against  the  temptations  of  the  Evil  Spirit,  and  I 
will  praise  thy  name." 

Thus,  at  a  blow,  paganism  was  demolished  throughout  nearly 
all  Kussia,  and  Christianity  was  introduced  in  its  place.  Im- 
perial energies  were  expended  in  rearing  artistic  churches  of 
stone  all  over  the  empire.  Christian  missionaries,  under  the 
patronage  of  the  emperor,  traversed  the  realm,  teaching  the 
people  the  new  religion.  Nearly  all  the  population  gladly 
received  the  Christian  faith.  Some,  however,  still  adhered  to 
paganism.  Vladimir  resj)ected  their  rights  of  conscience,  and 
for  a  tew  years  the  wretched  delusions  of  idolatry  lingered  in 
secluded  spots  ;  but  Russia  became  nominally  a  Christian  land. 

Light  dawned  rapidly  upon  the  mind  of  Vladimir,  and  he 
became  a  warm-hearted  Christian,  —  one  of  the  most  loving 
and  lovable  of  men.  War  had  been  his  passion.  In  this 
respect  his  whole  nature  seemed  to  be  changed.  Nothing  but 
dire  necessity  could  lead  him  to  an  appeal  to  arms.     The 


THE  DARK  AGES.  415 

Princess  Anne  appears  to  have  been  a  sincere  Christian.  She 
found  a  happy  home  in  the  Palace  of  Kief.  Her  virtues  and 
piety  won  the  love  and  reverence  of  her  husband.  Her  whole 
life  was  devoted  to  doing  good ;  and,  when  this  Christian  sis- 
ter fell  asleep  in  Jesus,  she  was  soon  followed  to  the  tomb  by 
her  grief-stricken  husband. 

The  name  of  Vladimir  is  still  revered  throughout  all  Ru  sia. 
He  was  the  greatest  benefactor  Russia  ever  knew.  In  his 
career  we  see  how  noble  is  the  life  of  the  Christian :  it  is  the 
only  life  which  is  truly  noble.  Christianity,  as  a  principle, 
embraces  every  virtue  which  can  glow  in  an  angel's  bosom : 
as  an  agent  of  beneficence,  it  promotes  all  conceivable  good 
for  time  and  eternity ;  as  an  agent  of  happiness,  it  fills  all 
homes  and  all  hearts  with  joy ;  as  a  motive  to  action,  it  com- 
bines all  the  conceivable  joys  of  an  endless  life  to  inspire  one 
with  tireless  energies  to  promote  God's  glory  and  man's 
welfare. 


CHAPTER    XXn. 


THE    REFORMATION. 


rwo  Aspects  of  CathoUcUm.  — Jubilee  at  Rome.—  Infamy  of  Philip  of  Prano«>,  — 
Banditti  Binhopg.  —  Sale  of  Indnlgi  ces.  — Tetiel  the  Peddler.  — The  Rl»e  o* 
Protestantism.  —  Luther  and  the  Diet  at  Worms.  —  Intolerance  of  Charles  V.  — 
Civil  War  and  Its  Reverses.  —  Perfidy  of  Charles  V.  —  Coalition  againit  tha 
Protestants.  —  Aridlcetlcn  of  Charles  V.— His  Death, 


HE  Papal  Chuich  presents  two  aspects  quite  dif- 
ferent from  each  other.  The  one  is  that  of  a 
spiritual  and  practical  religion,  in  which  that 
branch  of  the  Church  of  Christ  has  furnished 
some  of  the  most  lovely  exhibitions  of  piety  the 
world  has  ever  seen.  Fenelon  and  Pasca:  were 
among  the  nobles o  of  the  disciples  of  the  Re- 
deemer. Through  all  the  darkest  ages  of  the  Church  theie 
have  been  a  multitude,  which  no  man  can  number,  who  have 
followed  their  Saviour,  even  to  the  cross,  in  his  lowly  life  of 
benevolence,  and  his  self-sacrifice  for  others. 

The  Catholic  Church  was,  for  centuries,  almost  the  only  or- 
ganized representative  of  the  religion  of  Jesus.  It  contained 
within  its  bosom  all  the  piety  there  was  on  earth.  These  hum- 
ble Christians,  sometimes  buried  and  almost  smothered  beneath 
the  ceremonies  which  the  Church  imposed  upon  them,  mani- 
fested through  life  the  true  spirit  of  Jesus,  and  passed  away, 
in  death,  triumphant  to  their  crowns. 

But  there  is  another  aspect  in  which  the  Papal  Church  pre- 
SDnts  itself  on  the  pages  of  history.     It  is  that  of  a  por^icaJ 

41« 


THE  REFORMATION.  417 

organization,  grasped  by  ambitious  men,  and  wielded  by  them 
as  an  instrument  of  personal  aggrandizement. 

The  Bishop  of  Rome,  claiming  to  stand  in  'j(>J.'s  steaid,  with 
^ower  to  admit  to  heaven  or  to  consign  to  1:  >!ll,  became,  in 
nany  cases,  a  conspirator  with  kings  and  princes  to  inthraU 
mankind.  As  an  illustration  of  this  infamous  perversion  of 
Christianity,  it  may  be  mentioned,  that,  early  in  the  fourteenth 
cent'ary.  Pope  Boniface  designed  to  get  up  a  magnificent  cele- 
bration in  honor  of  the  popedom. 

He  appointed  a  jubilee  at  Rome.  As  an  inducement  to 
lead  an  innumerable  band  to  cluster  in  homage  around  him,  he 
promised  that  all  who  came  to  Rome  to  attend  the  jubilee 
should  not  only  have  their  past  sins  pardoned,  but  should  also 
receive  an  indulgence,  or,  as  it  was  popularly  understood,  per- 
mission to  commit  any  sins  they  wished  for  a  limited  time  to 
come.  We  easily  believe  that  which  we  wish  to  believe.  The 
proud  and  dissolute  barons  of  Europe  were  glad  to  accept  a 
doctrine  by  which  they  could  so  easily  escape  the  penalty  of 
their  enormous  sins.  They  were  also  only  too  eager  to  support 
the  pope  in  all  his  pretensions,  receiving  in  return  his  power- 
ful, almost  supernatural  influence  in  holding  the  fanatic  peas- 
antry in  subjection  to  their  will. 

At  this  magnificent  jubilee  the  pope  led  the  procession, 
dressed  in  imperial  robes.  Two  swords,  the  emblems  of  tem- 
poral and  of  spiritual  power,  and  the  globe,  the  emblem  of  uni- 
versal sovereignty,  were  carried  before  him.  A  herald  went 
in  advance,  crying,  — 

'*  Peter,  behold  thy  successor !  Christ,  behold  thy  vicar  upon 
earth  1 "  Such  crimes  not  unfrequently  in  this  life  meet  with 
conspicuous  punishment.  Pope  Boniface  became  insane,  broke 
from  his  keepers,  and  foaming  at  the  mouth,  and  gnashing  hia 
teeth,  died  uttering  the  most  horrid  blasphemies. 

Af^.-^r  the  death  of  Boniface,  Philip,  King  of  France,  sur- 
named  the  Handsome,  who  was  then  the  most  powerful  mon- 
arch in  Christendom,  bribed  a  majority  of  the  cardinals  to  elect 
one  of  his  creatures  to  the  pontifical  cliair.  There  was  a  vile, 
unscrupulous  courtier  in  the  palace,  who  had  been  promoted  to 

27 


418  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

the  high  ecclesiastical  position  of  Archbishop  of  Bordeaux. 
He  made  as  little  pretence  to  piety  as  did  the  hounds  he  fol- 
lowed in  the  chase.  The  king  summoned  the  archbishop, 
whose  name  was  Bernard  de  Goth,  to  meet  him  at  one  of  hia 
hunting-lodges  in  the  forest.     There  he  said  to  him,  — 

"  Archbishop,  I  have  power  to  make  you  pope  if  I  chooee. 
If  you  will  promise  me  six  favors  which  I  shall  ask  of  you  as 
pope,  I  will  confer  upon  you  that  dignity." 

The  astonished  and  overjoyed  archbishop  threw  himself  at 
the  king's  feet,  saying,  *'  My  lord,  it  is  for  you  to  command, 
for  me  to  obey.     I  shall  be  always  ready  to  do  your  will." 

"  The  six  special  favors  I  have  to  ask  are  these  :  first,  that 
you  will  reconcile  me  entirely  with  the  Church,  that  1  may  be 
pardoned  for  my  arrest  of  Pope  Boniface  VIII. ;  second,  that 
you  wUl  give  me  and  aU  my  supporters  the  communion ;  third, 
that  you  will  grant  me  tithes  of  the  clergy  for  five  years,  to 
meet  the  expenses  of  the  war  in  Flanders ;  fourth,  that  you 
will  destroy  the  memory  of  Boniface  VIII. ;  fifth,  that  you 
will  confer  the  dignity  of  cardinal  upon  Messrs.  Jacobo,  Piero, 
and  others  of  my  friends.  The  sixth  favor  1  reserve  for  the 
proper  time  and  place  :  it  is  a  great  and  secret  thing." 

The  archbishop,  having  taken  the  most  solemn  oaths  to  grant 
these  requests,  ascended,  by  the  intrigues  of  the  king,  the  papal 
throne,  with  the  title  of  Clement  V.  He  became  as  obsequi- 
ously the  servant  of  the  King  of  France  as  any  slave  is  sub- 
missive to  his  master.  The  king  and  his  pope  joined  1  ands 
to  oppress  and  rob  the  world. 

"  His  Holiness  Clement  V.  was,  therefore,  the  thr?l)  end 
servant  of  Philip  le  Bel.  No  office  was  too  lowly  or  r^ ori- 
fice too  large  for  the  grateful  pontiff:  he  became,  in  fact,  a 
<;itizen  of  France,  and  a  subject  of  the  crown.  He  deli'^ered 
over  the  clergy  to  the  relentless  hands  of  the  king.  He  gave 
him  tithes  of  all  their  livings.  As  the  Count  of  Flanders  owed 
money  to  Philip  which  he  had  no  means  of  paying,  the  gene- 
rosity of  the  pope  came  to  the  rescue ;  and  he  gave  tithes  of 
the  Flemish  clergy  to  the  bankrupt  count,  in  order  to  enable 
him  to  pay  his  debt  to  the  exacting  monarch.     The  pope  did 


THE  REFORMATION.  419 

not  reduce  his  own  demands  in  consideration  of  the  sub- 
sidies given  to  those  powers :  he  completed,  indeed,  the 
ruin  the  royal  tax-gatherers  began ;  for  he  travelled  in  more 
than  imperial  state  from  end  to  end  of  France,  and  ate 
bishop  and  abbot  and  prior  and  prebendary  out  of  house  and 
home."  ^ 

Christendom,  then  miserably  poor,  became  impoverished  by 
their  exactions.  These  imperial  robbers  turned  to  the  Jews, 
and  robbed  them  mercilessly.  The  unarmed  peasantry  could 
present  no  resistance  to  the  steel-clad  warriors  mounted  on 
powerful  chargers ;  which  steeds  were  also  caparisoned  in  coats 
of  mail.  These  knights,  in  their  impenetrable  armor,  could 
plunge  upon  almost  any  multitude  of  the  peasantry,  and  disperse 
them  like  sheep  when  wolves  rush  into  the  fold.  But  it  is 
not  always  that  the  battle  is  to  the  strong.  We  can  often  see  in 
history  the  indications  of  God's  retributive  providence.  There 
were  seasons  when  these  proud  knights  fell  before  their 
despised  victims. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century  an  army  of 
these  mailed  warriors  entered  Flanders,  hacking  and  hewing 
in  all  directions.  The  manufacturing  citizens  at  the  town  of 
Courtrai  secretly  dug  a  blind  ditch  in  the  path  of  the  invaders. 
The  impetuous  knights,  breathing  through  their  cross-barred 
visors,  and  goggling  through  the  holes  left  for  their  eyes, 
spurred  their  horses  forward  in  solid  mass,  and  fell  headlong, 
horse  and  rider,  with  their  heavy  and  inextricable  weight  of 
armor,  into  the  trap  set  for  them.  It  was  a  horrible  massacre, 
—  an  avalanche  of  overthrown,  struggling  horses  and  human 
bodies  cased  in  steel. 

The  momentum  of  the  vast  mass  was  such,  that  their  onward 
movement  could  not  be  checked.  The  pressure  behind  forced 
forward  those  in  the  advance,  till  thousands  were  plunged  into 
chc  nbyss,  writhing,  struggling,  choking,  like  vipers  in  a  vase. 
The  infuriated  peasants  and  mechanics  on  the  other  side  of 
the  ditch,  with  clubs  and  every  other  available  weapon,  beat 
out  the  brains  of  those  who  endeavored  to  escape  from  the 

'  Eighteen  Christian  Centuries,  Rev.  James  White,  p.  131. 


420  BISTORT  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

maelstrom  of  death.  This  enormous  slaughter  nearly  depopa- 
lated  France  of  its  lords  and  princes. 

The  corruptions  which  had  crept  into  the  secularized 
Church  more  and  more  appalled  the  more  devout  both  of  the 
clergy  and  of  the  laity.  True  men  began  to  speak  loudly 
against  these  corruptions,  and  continued  so  to  speak,  notwith- 
standing all  the  denunciations  of  temporal  and  ecclesiastical 
power. 

The  leading  cardinals,  archbishops,  and  bishops,  appointed 
by  infamous  popes  and  kings,  were  almost  universally  irreli- 
gious and  corrupt  men.  There  were  some  noble  exceptions ; 
but  sincere  piety  was  more  generally  found  only  with  the  more 
humble  of  the  clergy,  and  with  the  common  people. 

In  order  to  raise  money.  Pope  Leo  X.,  early  in  the  sixteentl 
century,  devised  the  plan  of  selling  indulgences.  A  regulai 
tariff  of  prices  was  fixed  for  the  pardon  of  all  crimes,  from  mur- 
der downwards.  If  a  man  wished  to  commit  any  outrage,  or 
to  indulge  in  any  forbidden  wickedness,  he  could  do  so  at  a 
stipulated  price,  and  receive  from  the  pope  a  full  pardon.  These 
permits,  or  indulgences  as  they  were  called,  were  peddled  all 
over  Europe,  and  an  immense  revenue  was  gathered  from  them. 
There  was  one  man,  by  the  name  of  John  Tetzel,  a  brazen- 
faced miscreant,  who  made  himself  very  notorious  as  a  peddler 
of  these  indulgences.  He  traversed  Northern  France  and 
Germany,  engaged  in  this  nefarious  traffic. 

In  a  cart  gorgeously  embellished,  and  accompanied  by  a 
musical  band,  he  would  approach  some  populous  town,  and 
tarry  somewhere  in  the  suburbs  until  his  emissaries  had 
entered  the  place  and  informed  the  inhabitants  of  the  signal 
honor  which  awaited  them  from  the  advent  of  a  nuncio  from 
the  pope  with  pardons  for  sin  at  his  disposal. 

All  the  church-bells  would  be  set  ringing  for  joy  :  the  whole 
population  would  be  thrown  into  the  greatest  excitement  to 
receive  the  brilliant  pageant.  At  the  appointed  hour  the  ravr 
alcade  entered,  bedizened  with  sJl  the  gorgeous  finery  of  a 
modern  menagerie  display.  Tetzel  carried,  in  the  capacious 
box  of  his  peddler's  cart,  the  parcnmeat  certificates  of  pardon 


THE  REFORMATION.  421 

for  every  imaginary  sin.  Murder,  adultery,  theft,  sacrilege, 
blasphemy,  —  every  crime  had  its  specified  price. 

One  could  purchase  pardon  or  absolution  for  any  crime  which 
had  already  been  committed,  or  he  could  purchase  permission 
to  commit  the  crime  if  it  were  one  he  wished  to  perpetrate. 
With  music  and  banners  the  procession  advanced  to  the  public 
.^square.  Here  Tetzel,  mounted  upon  his  box,  with  all  the  volu- 
bility of  a  modem  mountebank  palmed  off  his  wares  upon  the 
eager  crowd. 

"  My  brothers,"  said  this  prince  of  impostors,  "  God  has  sent 
me  to  you  with  his  last  and  greatest  gift.  The  Church  is  in 
need  of  money.  I  am  empowered  by  the  pope,  God's  vice- 
gerent, to  absolve  you  from  any  and  every  crime  you  may  have 
committed,  no  matter  what  it  may  be.  The  moment  the  money 
tinkles  in  the  bottom  of  the  box,  your  soul  shall  be  as  pure  as 
that  of  the  babe  unborn. 

"  I  can  also  grant  you  indulgence ;  so  that  any  sins  you  may 
commit  hereafter  shall  all  be  blotted  out.  More  than  this :  if 
you  have  any  friends  now  in  purgatory  suffering  in  those  awful 
flames,  I  am  empowered,  in  consideration  of  the  money  you 
grant  the  Church  in  this  its  hour  of  need,  to  cause  that  soul 
to  be  immediately  released  from  purgatory,  and  to  be  borne  on 
angel-wings  to  heaven." 

Enlightened  as  the  masses  of  the  people  are  at  the  present 
day,  we  can  hardly  imagine  the  effect  these  representations 
produced  upon  an  ignorant  and  superstitious  people  who  had 
ever  been  trained  to  the  belief  that  the  pope  was  equal  in 
power  to  God.  These  peddlings  of  indulgences  for  sin  were 
carried  on  all  over  Europe,  and  enormous  sums  of  money  were 
thus  raised.  The  certificates,  which  were  issued  like  govern- 
ment-bonds, ran  in  this  form  :  — 

"  I,  by  the  authority  of  Jesus  Christ,  his  blessed  apostles 
Peter  and  Paul,  and  the  most  holy  pope,  absolve  thee  from  all 
thy  sins,  transgressions,  and  excesses,  how  enormous  soever 
they  may  be.  I  remit  to  thee  all  punishment  which  thou  dost 
deserve  in  purgatory  on  their  account,  and  restore  thee  to  the 
innocence  and  purity  thou  didst  possess  at  baptism ;  so  that, 


422  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

when  thou  diest,  the  gates  of  punishment  shall  be  shut  against 
thee,  and  the  gates  of  paradise  shall  be  thrown  wide  open." 

It  was  this  sale  of  indulgences  which  opened  the  eyes  of 
Luther  and  other  devout  men  to  the  corruptions  which  had 
crept  into  the  Church.  We  have  not  space  hero  to  enter  into 
the  details  of  the  great  Protestanb  Reformation  which  ensued: 
the  reader  can  find  in  the  pagss  of  D'Aubign^,  which  are^ 
easily  accessible,  a  graphic  nc^rrative  of  its  incidents.  Notwith- 
standing the  ferocious  hoscility  of  popes  and  kings,  the  Refor- 
mation spread  rapidly  among  the  masses  of  the  people ;  and 
several  sovereigns  and  princes  of  high  rank,  disgusted  with  th«> 
arrogance  of  the  popes,  espoused  its  principles.  The  Emperor 
Maximilian  wrote  to  one  of  the  leading  men  in  the  Saxon 
court  in  reference  to  Luther,  — 

"  All  the  popes  I  have  had  any  thing  to  do  with  have  been 
rogues  and  cheats.  The  game  with  the  priests  is  begin  ling. 
What  your  monk  is  doing  is  not  to  be  despised.  Take  care  of 
him :  it  may  happen  that  we  shall  have  need  of  him." 

Providentially,  the  Elector  of  Saxony  was  the  fi^end  and 
protector  of  Luther.  The  intrepid  monk  wrote  to  the  pope  a 
remonstrance  against  the  iniquities  which  were  practised  at 
Rome. 

"  You  have  three  or  four  cardinals,"  he  wrote,  "  of  learning 
and  faith ;  but  what  are  these  three  or  four  in  so  vast  a  crowd 
of  infidels  and  reprobates  ?  The  days  of  Rome  are  numbered, 
and  the  anger  of  God  has  been  breathed  forth  upon  hei.  She 
hates  councils,  she  dreads  reform,  and  will  not  hear  of  a  check 
being  placed  on  her  desperate  impiety."  . 

A  diet  was  summoned  at  Worms,  composed  of  the  princes 
and  potentates  of  the  great  German  empire.  The  Emperor 
Charles  V.  presided.  Such  a  spectacle  the  world  had  never 
witnessed  before.  Luther  was  summoned  to  appear  before  this 
body  to  be  tried  for  heresy.  In  those  treacherous  days  it  was 
not  deemed  safe  for  Luther  to  place  himself  in  the  hands  ol 
his  enemies,  though  he  had  obtained  a  safe-conduct  from  tho 
emperor.  His  friends  urged  him  not  to  go  to  Worms.  Ha 
replied,  — 


TEE  REFORMATION.  423 

'*  If  there  were  as  many  devils  in  Worms  as  there  are  tilea 
on  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  I  would  still  go  there." 

Before  that  a-uguet  assembly,  which  had  predetermined  his 
condemnation  and  death,  Luther  made  an  eloquent  defence, 
which  he  concluded  in  the  following  words :  — 

"  Let  me,  then,  be  refuted  and  convinced  by  the  testimony 
of  the  Scriptures,  or  by  the  clearest  arguments ;  otherwise  I 
cannot  and  will  not  recant ;  for  it  is  neither  safe  nor  expedi-ent 
to  act  agsinst  conscience.  Here  I  take  my  stand.  I  can  do 
no  otherwise,  so  help  me  God !     Amen." 

He  was  suffered  to  depart  under  his  safe-conduct ;  but  he 
was  closely  followed,  and  measures  were  taken  to  arrest  him  the 
moment  his  safe-conduct  should  expire. 

As,  on  his  return  home,  he  was  passing  through  the  gloomy 
paths  of  a  forest,  some  horsemen  suddenly  appc:\red,  seized 
him,  dressed  him  in  the  disguise  of  military  costume,  put  on 
him  a  false  beard,  mounted  him  on  a  horse,  and  drove  rapidly 
away. 

"  His  friends  were  anxious  about  his  fate ;  for  a  dreadful  sen- 
tence had  beon  uttered  against  him  by  the  emperor  on  the 
day  when  J?.i8  safe-conduct  expired,  forbidding  any  one  to  sus- 
tain OT  chelter  him,  and  ordering  all  persons  to  arrest  and 
bring  him  into  prison  to  await  the  judgment  he  deserved."  ^ 

To  rescue  him  from  this  doom,  the  Elector  of  Saxony  had 
sent  these  croops,  who  conveyed  him  secretly,  but  in  safety,  to 
the  Castle  cf  Wartburg.  Thus,  while  it  was  generally  sup- 
posed that  he  had  been  waylaid  and  slain,  he  was  peacefully 
prosecuting  his  studies  within  the  walls  of  the  fortress,  safe 
fiom  his  foes. 

The  conflict  between  the  reformers  and  the  opponents  of 
reform  soon  became  the  all-engrossing  question  of  the  age. 
Many  were  of  the  opinion  that  the  end  of  the  world  was  at 
hand.  The  whole  continent  of  Europe  was  shaken  by  reli- 
gious and  political  commotions.  The  religious  question  rallied 
powerful  princes  on  the  opposite  sides.  The  Turks,  in  appar- 
ently overpowering  numbers,  were  thundering  at  the  gates  of 

'  Eigrhteen  Christian  Centuries. 


424  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

many  of  the  Eastern  cities.  France  was  a  maelstrom  of  ex- 
citement. Bigoted  Spain  declared  "  heresy  "  punishable  with 
death.  Terrible  earthquakes  shook  the  globe.  A  large  por- 
tion of  Lisbon  in  a  moment  was  whelmed  in  ruin,  burying 
thirty  thousand  of  the  inhabitants  beneath  the  debris.  An 
enormous  ocean-wave  swept  the  coast  of  Holland,  consigning 
four  hundred  thousand  people  to  a  watery  grave. 

In  the  year  1530,  the  Emperor  Charles  V.  determined  to 
enforce  by  military  power  the  oppressive  decrees  adopted  by 
the  Diet  at  Worms.  But  the  Reformation  in  Germany  had 
made  extraordinary  progress.  Many  German  princes  had 
adopted  its  principles,  and  were  ready  to  draw  the  sword  in 
its  defence.  These  princes  united  in  a  solemn  protest  against 
this  papal  intolerance.  This  protest  was  signed  by  such  men 
as  John,  Elector  of  Saxony,  George,  Margrave  of  Brandenburg, 
two  Dukes  of  Brunswick,  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse-Cassel,  and 
the  governors  of  twenty-four  imperial  cities.  From  this  formi- 
dable protest,  which  was  issued  in  the  spring  of  the  year  1529, 
the  reformers  took  the  name  of  Protestants,  which  they 
retain  at  the  present  day. 

Ttie  Emperor  Charles  V.,  alarmed  by  this  protest,  after  sev- 
eral long  interviews  with  the  pope,  assembled  a  new  diet  at 
Augsburg  in  April,  1530.  Hoping  by  menaces  or  bribes  to 
silence  the  voice  of  Protestanism,  he  assumed  the  air  of  can- 
dor. "  I  have  convened,"  he  said,  "  this  assembly  to  consider 
the  difference  of  opinion  upon  the  subject  of  religion.  It  is 
my  intention  to  hear  both  parties  impartially,  to  examine  their 
respective  arguments,  and  to  reform  what  requires  to  be  re- 
formed, that  there  may  be  in  future  only  one  pure  and  simple 
faith,  and  that,  as  all  are  the  disciples  of  the  same  Jesus,  all 
may  form  one  and  the  same  church." 

The  Protestants  appointed  Luther  and  Melanctbon  to  draw 
up  a  confession  of  their  faith.  Luther  was  a  stem,  unyielding 
man  :  Melancthon  was  amiable  and  pliant.  Though  they 
agreed  in  their  confession,  it  did  not  exactly  suit  either.  It 
was  a  little  too  yielding  for  Luther,  and  too  uncompromising 
for  Melancthon.      Subsequently  the  document  was  revised  by 


THE  REFORMATION.  425 

Melanctlion^  and  semewhat  softened  to  meet  his  own  riews. 
As  thus  modified,  it  was  adopted  by  the  German  people  who 
took  the  title  of  German  Reformed.  The  Lutherans  adhered 
to  the  original  document. 

The  emperor,  in  co-operation  with  the  pope,  now  threw  off 
the  mask,  and  resolved  hy  force  of  arms  to  compel  all  to  con- 
form to  the  doctrines  F-ad  usages  of  the  Papal  Church.  He 
began  to  gather  his  armies  to  crush  the  Protestants.  They 
entered  into  a  league  for  mutual  protection.  A  civil,  religious 
war  was  just  about  to  burst  upon  Germany,  when  the  Turks, 
with  an  army  three  hundred  thousand  strong,  commenced  the 
ascent  of  the  Danube.  The  emperor,  alarmed  by  this  terrible 
invasion,  was  compelled  to  call  upon  the  Protestants  for  aid ; 
but  they  feared  the  dungeons  and  flame  of  the  Papal  Inquisi- 
tion more  than  they  did  the  cimeter  of  the  Turk.  They  knew 
full  well,  that,  as  soon  as  the  Turks  were  repelled,  the  emperoi 
would  turn  the  energies  of  his  sword  against  them.  StUl 
Germany,  Protestant  and  Catholic,  had  every  thing  to  fear 
from  the  ravages  and  outrages  of  the  barbarian  Turk. 

After  long  negotiations,  the  Protestants  consent'^d  to  co-opei> 
ate  with  the  emperor  in  repelling  the  invasion,  upon  receiving 
his  solemn  pledge  to  grant  them  freedom  of  conscience  and 
of  worship.  Charles  was  astonished  at  the  energy  with  which 
the  Protestants  came  forward  to  the  war.  They  even  tripled 
the  contingents  which  they  had  promised,  and  fell  upon  the 
invaders  with  such  intrepidity  as  to  drive  them  back  ppH-mell 
to  the  banks  of  the  Bosphorus.  Charles  then,  in  violation  of 
his  pledge,  began  to  proceed  against  the  Protestants.  But 
they,  armed,  organized,  and  flushed  with  victory,  were  in  no 
snood  to  submit  to  this  perfidy.  Some  of  the  more  considerate 
of  the  Papal  party,  foreseeing  the  torrents  of  blood  that  must 
flow,  and  the  uncertain  issue  of  the  conflict,  succeeded  in  pro- 
moting a  compromise. 

Still  Charles  was  merely  temporizing.  He  at  once  entered 
into  vigorous  efforts  to  marshal  a  force  sufficiently  powerful  to 
crush  the  Protestants.  He  concluded  a  truce  with  the  Turks 
for  fiv     years ;   he  formed  a  league  with  Francis  King  of 


426  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY 

France,  who  promised  him  the  whola  military  force  of  hia 
kingdom.  In  the  mean  time,  the  Protestants  were  busy  wield- 
ing ttose  moral  powers  more  potent  than  sabres  or  artillery, 
than  chains  or  flames.  Eloquent  preachers  were  everywhere 
proclaiming  the  corruptions  of  the  Papacy.  The  new  doctrines 
of  the  Protestants  involved  the  principles  of  civil  as  well  as 
religious  liberty.  The  most  intelligent  and  conscientious  all 
ovar  Europe  were  rapidly  embracing  the  new  doctrine.  Sev- 
eral of  the  ablest  of  the  Catholic  bishops  espoused  the  Protes- 
tant cause.  The  emperor  was  quite  appalled  when  he  learned 
that  the  Archbishop  of  Golcgne,  who  was  one  of  the  electors 
of  the  empire,  had  joined  the  Protestants.  So  many  of  the 
German  princes  had  adopted  the  principles  of  the  Reformation, 
that  they  had  a  majority  in  the  electoral  diet.  In  Switzer- 
land, also,  Protestantism  had  won  the  majority  of  the  people. 
Still,  throughout  Europe,  Catholicism  was  in  the  vast  ascend- 
ency. 

Charles  resolved  to  attempt  by  stratagem  that  which  he 
recoiled  from  undertaking  by  force.  He  proposed  to  the  Prot- 
estants that  a  general  council  should  be  convened  at  Trent, 
and  that  each  party  should  pledge  itself  to  abide  by  the  decis- 
ion of  a  majority  of  votes.  The  council,  however,  was  to  be 
summoned  by  the  pope  ;  and  Charles,  by  co-operation  with  the 
pope,  had  made  arrangements  that  the  overwhelming  majority 
of  the  council  should  be  opposed  to  the  reformersi  The  Prot- 
estants, of  course,  rejected  so  silly  a  proposition. 

Still  the  emperor  and  the  pope  resolved  to  hold  the  council, 
and  to  enforce  its  decrees  by  their  armies.  The  pope  furnished 
the  emperor  with  thirteen  thousand  troops  and  over  a  million 
of  dollars.  Charles  raised  two  large  armies  of  his  own  sub- 
jects,—  one  in  the  Low  Countries,  and  one  in  the  States  of 
Austria.  His  brother  Ferdinand,  King  of  Hungary  and  of 
Bohemia,  also  raised  two  armies  of  co-operation,  one  from  each 
of  those  countries.  The  King  of  France  mustered  his  confed- 
erate legions,  and  loudly  proclaimed  that  the  day  of  vengeance 
had  come,  in  which  the  Protestants  were  to  be  annihilated 
The  pope  issued  a  decree,  in  which  he  offered  the  pardon  of 


THE  REFORMATION.  427 

all  their  sins  to  those  who  should  engage  in  this  war  of  exter- 
mination of  the  Protestants. 

The  reformers  were  in  consternation :  the  forces  marshalled 
against  them  seemed  to  ba  resistless.  But  Providence  does 
not  always  side  with  the  heavy  battalions.  With  energy 
which  surprised  both  themselves  and  their  foes,  they  raised  an 
army  of  eighty  thousand  men,  nearly  every  individual  of  whom 
was  a  hero,  fully  comprehending  the  cause  for  which  he  had 
drawn  the  sword,  and  ready  to  lay  down  his  life  in  its  defence. 
Battles  ensued,  blood  flowed,  and  a  wail  of  misery  spread  ove- 
the  unhappy  realms,  which  we  have  no  space  here  to  describe. 
Charles  was  apparently  triumphant.  He  crushed  the  Protes- 
tant league,  subjected  the  pope  to  his  will,  and  was  about  to 
convene  a  council  to  confirm  all  he  had  done,  when  wide-spread 
disaffection,  which  had  long  been  slumbering,  blazed  forth  all 
over  the  German  empire. 

The  intolerance  of  the  haughty  monarch  caused  a  general 
burst  of  indignation  against  him.  Maurice,  King  of  Saxony, 
which  was  the  most  powerful  State  of  the  Germanic  confede- 
racy, headed  the  insurrection.  France,  annoyed  by  the  arro- 
gance of  the  emperor,  readily  joined  the  standard  of  Maurice. 
The  Protestants  in  crowds  flocked  to  his  ranks  ;  for  he  had 
issued  a  declaration  that  he  had  taken  up  arms  to  prevent  the 
destruction  of  the  Protestant  religion,  to  defend  the  liberties 
of  Germany,  and  to  rescue  from  the  dungeon  innocent  men 
imprisoned  for  their  faith  alone.  Nominal  Catholics  were 
found  shoulder  to  shoulder  in  co-operation  with  the  Protestants. 
Whole  provinces  rushed  to  join  this  army.  Maurice  was  re- 
garded as  the  advocate  of  civil  and  religious  liberty.  Imperial 
towns  threw  open  their  gates  joyfully  to  Maurice.  In  on© 
month,  the  aspect  of  every  thing  was  changed. 

The  Catholic  ecclesiastics,  who  were  assembling  at  Trent, 
alarmed  at  this  new  attitude  of  aftsirs,  dissolved  the  assembly, 
and  fled  precipitately  to  their  homes.  The  emperor  was  at 
Innspruck  —  seated  in  his  arm-chair,  with  his  limbs  bandaged 
in  flannel,  enfeebled,  and  suffering  from  a  severe  attack  of  the 
gout  —  when  the  intelligence  of  this  sudder  and  overwhelm- 


t28  BISTORT  OF  CHRIS riANITT. 

ing  reverse  reached  him.  He  was  astonished,  and  utterly  con- 
founded. In  weakness  and  pain,  unable  to  leave  his  couch, 
with  his  treasury  exhausted,  his  army  widely  scattered,  and  so 
pressed  by  their  foes  that  they  could  not  be  concentrated,  there 
was  nothing  left  for  him  but  to  endeavor  to  beguile  Maurice 
into  a  truce.  But  Maurice  was  as  much  at  home  in  all  tiie 
arts  of  cunning  as  was  the  emperor,  and,  instead  of  being  be- 
guiled, contrived  to  entrap  his  antagonist.  This  was  a  nevv 
and  very  salutary  experience  for  Charles.  It  is  a  very  nove^ 
sensation  for  a  successful  rogue  to  be  the  dupe  of  roguery. 

Maurice  pressed  on,  his  army  gathering  force  at  every  stej,. 
He  entered  the  Tyrol,  swept  through  all  its  vaUeys,  and  took 
possession  of  all  its  castles  and  sublime  fastnesses ;  and  the 
blasts  of  his  bugles  reverberated  through  the  cliflfs  of  the  moun- 
tains, ever  sounding  the  charge  and  announcing  victory,  never 
signalling  a  defeat.  The  emperor  was  reduced  to  the  terrible 
humiliation  of  saving  himself  from  capture  only  by  flight. 
He  could  scarcely  credit  the  statement  when  he  received  the 
appalling  tidings  that  his  foes  were  within  a  day's  march  of 
Innspruck,  and  that  a  squadron  of  horse  might  at  any  hour 
cut  off  his  retreat. 

It  was  night  when  this  communication  was  made  to  him,  — 
a  dark  and  stormy  night,  —  the  20th  of  May,  1552.  The  rain 
feU  in  torrents,  and  the  wind  howled  through  the  fir-trees  and 
through  the  crags  of  the  Alps.  The  tortures  of  the  gout  would 
not  allow  him  to  mount  his  horse,  neither  could  he  bear  the 
jolting  in  a  carriage  over  the  rough  roads.  Some  attendants 
wrapped  the  monarch  in  blankets,  took  him  into  the  courtyard 
of  tlie  palace,  and  placed  him  upon  a  litter.  Servants  led  the 
way  with  lanterns ;  and  thus,  through  the  inundated  and 
storm-swept  defiles,  they  fled  with  their  helpless  sovereign 
through  the  long  hours  of  the  tempestuous  night,  not  daring 
to  stx)p  one  moment,  lest  they  should  hear  behind  them  the 
[ion  hoofs  of  their  pursuers. 

What  a  change  for  one  short  month  to  produce !  What  a 
comment  upon  earthly  grandeur !  It  is  well  for  man,  in  the 
hour  of  exultant  prosperity,  to  be  humble :  he  knows  not  bow 


THE  REFORMATION.  429 

soon  he  may  fall.  Instructiye,  indeed,  is  the  apostrophe  of 
Cardinal  Wolsey,  illustrated  as  the  truth  he  uttered  is  by 
almost  every  page  of  history  :  — 

"  This  IS  the  state  of  man :  To-day  he  puts  forth 
The  tender  leaves  of  hope,  to-morrow  blossoms  : 
The  third  day  comes  a  frost,  a  killing  frost, 
And  —  when  he  thinks,  good  easy  man,  full  surely 
His  greatness  is  a-ripening  —  nips  his  root; 
And  then  he  falls  as  I  do." 

The  fugitive  emperor  did  not  venture  to  stop  for  refresh- 
ment or  repose  until  he  had  reached  the  strong  town  of  Vil- 
lach  in  Corinthia.  The  troops  of  Maurice  soon  entered  the 
city  which  Charles  had  abahdoned,  and  the  imperial  palace 
was  surrendered  to  pillage.  Heroic  courage,  indomitable  per- 
severance, always  command  respect.  These  are  noble  quali- 
ties, though  they  may  be  exerted  in  a  bad  cause.  The  will  of 
Charles  was  unconquerable.  In  these  hours  of  disaster,  tor- 
tured with  pain,  driven  from  his  palace,  impoverished,  and 
borne  upon  his  litter  in  humiliating  flight  before  his  foes,  he 
was  just  as  determined  to  enforce  his  plan  as  in  the  most  bril- 
liant hour  of  victory.^ 

The  emperor  was  at  length  constrained,  in  view  of  new  men- 
aces from  the  Turks,  to  assent  to  the  celebrated  Treaty  of 
Passau,  on  the  2d  of  August,  1552.  The  spirit  of  true  tolera- 
tion was  then  scarcely  known  in  the  world.  After  long  debate, 
in  which  both  parties  were  often  at  the  point  of  grasping  arms, 
it  was  agreed  that  the  Protestants  should  enjoy  the  free  exer- 
cise of  their  religion  in  the  places  specified  by  the  Augsburg 
Confenoion.  In  aU  other  places  Protestant  princes  might  pro- 
hibit the  Catholic  religion  in  their  States,  and  Catholic  princes 
might  prohibit  the  Protestant  religion ;  but  in  each  case  the 
expelled  party  were  to  be  at  liberty  to  sell  their  property,  and 
to  emigrate  without  molestation  to  some  State  where  their  reli- 
gion was  dominant.  Even  this  wretched  burlesque  of  tolera- 
tion was  so  offensive  to  the  pope,  that  he  threatened  to  excom- 

*  Empire  of  Austria,  by  John  S.  C.  Abbott. 


430  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

miinicate  the  emperor  and  his  brother  Ferdinand  if  they  did 
not  immediately  declare  these  decrees  to  be  null  and  void 
throughout  their  dominions. 

Charles  V.  unquestionably  inherited  a  taint  of  icaanity. 
His  mother,  the  unhappy  Joanna,  daughter  of  Isabella,  Queen 
of  Spain,  after  lingering  for  years  in  the  most  insupportable 
glooms  of  delirium,  died  on  the  4th  of  April,  1555.  Her  impe- 
rial son  had  already  become  the  victim  of  extreme  despond- 
ency. Harassed  by  disappointments,  mortified  by  reverses,  and 
annoyed  by  the  undutiful  conduct  of  his  son,  he  shut  himself 
up  in  his  room,  refusing  to  see  any  company  but  his  sister  and 
servants,  and  rendering  himself  insupportable  to  them  by  his 
petulance  and  moroseness.  For  nine  months  he  did  not  sign 
a  paper.  He  was  but  fifty-five  yeara  of  age,  but  was  prema- 
turely old,  and  the  victim  of  many  depressing  diseases.  There 
was  probably  not  a  more  wretched  man  in  all  Europe  than  the 
Emperor  Charles  V. 

He  resolved,  by  abdicating  the  throne,  to  escape  from  the 
cares  which  tortured  him.  The  important  ceremony  took 
place  with  much  funereal  pomp  on  the  4th  of  April,  1555. 

The  emperor  had  fixed  upon  the  Convent  of  St.  Justus,  in 
Estremadura,  Spain,  as  the  place  of  his  retreat.  The  mas- 
sive pile  was  far  removed  from  the  busy  scenes  of  the  world, 
imbosomed  among  hills  covered  with  wide-spread  and  gloomy 
forests,  with  a  mountain  rivulet  murmuring  by  its  walls. 
There  is  considerable  diversity  in  the  accounts  transmitted  to 
us  of  convent-life.  According  to  the  best  evidence  which  can 
now  be  obtained,  it  was  as  follows  :  — 

The  emperor  caused  to  be  erected  within  the  walls  of  the 
convent  a  small  building,  two  stories  high,  with  four  rooms  on 
each  floor.  These  rooms,  tapestried  in  mourning,  were  com- 
fortably furnished.  Choice  paintings  ornamented  the  walls, 
and  the  emperor  was  served  from  silver  plate.  Charles  waa 
not  of  a  literary  turn  of  mind,  and  a  few  devotional  books  con- 
stituted his  only  library.  A  pleasant  garden,  with  a  high 
enclosure  which  sheltered  the  recluse  from  all  observation, 
invited  the  emperor  to  gravelled  walks  fringed  with  flowers. 


THE  REFORMATION.  431 

The  days  passed  rtjonotonously.  Tlie  emperor  attended 
mass  every  morning  in  the  chapel,  and  dined  at  an  early  hour 
in  the  refectory  of  the  convent.  After  dinner  he  listened  for 
a  short  time  to  the  reading  of  some  book  of  devotion.  He  was 
scrupv-'oualy  attentive  to  the  fasts  and  festivals  of  the  Church, 
and,  every  evening,  listened  to  a  sermon  in  the  chapel.  In 
penance  for  his  sins,  he  scourged  himself  frequently  with  such 
severity  of  flagellation,  that  the  cords  of  the  whip  were  stained 
with  bloci. 

Being  fond  of  mechanical  pursuits,  he  employed  many  hours 
in  carving  puppets  and  children's  playthings,  and  constructed 
some  articles  of  furniture.  His  room  was  filled  with  time- 
pieces of  every  variety  of  construction.  It  is  said,  that,  when 
he  found  how  impossible  it  ■'v'as  to  make  any  two  of  them  keep 
precisely  the  same  time,  ho  exclaimed  upon  his  past  folly  in 
endeavoring  to  compel  all  men  to  think  alike  upon  the  subject 
of  religion. 

His  bodily  sufferings  were  severe  from  the  gout,  by  which 
he  was  helplessly  crippled.  Most  of  the  time  he  spent  in 
extreme  dejection.  It  was  evident  that  his  health  was  rapidly 
failing,  and  that,  ere  long,  he  must  sink  into  the  grave.  Under 
these  circumstances,  he  adopted  the  extraordinary  idea  of 
rehearsing  his  own  funeral.  As  the  story  has  generally  come 
down  to  us,  aU  the  melancholy  arrangements  for  his  burial 
were  made,  and  the  coffin  provided.  The  emperor  reclined  upon 
his  bed  as  if  dead:  he  was  wrapped  in  his  shroud,  and  placed 
in  his  coffin.  The  monks  and  all  the  inmates  of  the  convent 
attended  in  mourning ;  the  bells  tolled,  requiems  were  chanted 
by  the  cLoir,  the  funeral-service  was  read;  and  then  the  em- 
peror, as  if  dead,  was  placed  in  the  tomb  of  the  chapel,  and  the 
ccng::3gJiCion  retired. 

Tne  monarch,  after  remaining  some  time  in  his  coffin  to  im- 
press himself  with  what  it  is  to  die  and  be  buried,  rose  from  the 
tomb,  kneeled  before  the  altar  in  the  chill  church  for  some  time 
in  worship,  and  then  returned  to  his  room  to  pass  the  night  in 
meditation  and  prayer.  The  shock  and  chill  of  these  melan- 
choly scenes  were  too  much  for  the  feeble  frame  and  weakened 


432  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

mind  of  the  monarch.  He  was  seized  with  a  fever,  and  in  a 
few  days  hreathed  his  last;  and  his  spirit  ascended  to  that 
trihunal  where  all  must  answer  for  the  deeds  done  in  the  hody. 

The  reformers  of  the  sixteenth  century,  in  the  various  coun- 
tries of  Europe,  have  acquired  renown  which  will  never  die. 
We  give  a  group  containing  the  portraits  of  five,  who  were 
among  the  most  iUustrious  of  these  men,  with  the  accompany- 
ing brief  sketch  of  their  lives. 

John  Calvin  was  born  at  Noyon,  in  Picardy,  one  of  the 
northern  provinces  of  France,  on  the  10th  of  July,  1509.  In 
his  earliest  years  ho  developed  remarkable  intellect;  and  his 
father,  who  was  a  cooper,  dedicated  him  to  the  Church.  When 
twelve  years  of  age,  he  received  a  benefice  in  the  cathedral  of 
his  native  city;  and,  when  but  eighteen  years  old,  was  ap- 
pointed to  a  cure.  While  still  pursuing  in  Paris  his  theological 
studies,  the  great  truths  of  the  reformers  dawned  upon  hie 
mind,  and  so  disturbed  him,  that  he  renounced  his  intention  of 
serving  in  the  priesthood,  and  devoted  himself  to  the  study 
of  the  law. 

When  but  twenty-two  years  of  age,  he  published  a  Latin 
commentary  upon  the  "De  dementia"  of  Seneca;  and,  being 
suspected  of  favoring  the  new  doctrine  of  the  reformers,  he  wae 
compelled  to  flee  from  Paris.  The  Canon  of  Angouleme  gavft 
him  refuge ;  and  under  his  hospitable  roof  he  commenced  writ- 
ing hlfi  wcrld-renowned  work,  "  The  Institutes  of  the  Christian 
Religion."  He  devoted  two  years  to  this  treatise,  and  in  the 
mean  time  repaired  to  Navarre.  Queen  Margaret  of  Navarre, 
who  was  the  cordial  patron  of  learned  men,  received  him  hos- 
pitably. Here  Calvin  continued  to  pursue  his  studies,  and 
made  the  acquaintance  of  many  of  the  most  eminent  men  o' 
Europe  in  all  the  various  branches  of  learning.  After  a  time, 
rstuming  to  France,  he  was  again  compelled  to  seek  safety 
in  flight ;  and  he  established  himself  at  Basle. 

Here  he  published,  in  August,  1535,  hi&  "Institutes."  It 
was  a  carefully-drawn-up  confession  of  the  faith  of  those  who 
in  France  were  condemned  to  the  most  terrible  persecution, 
and  even  to  the  stake^  for  their  opinions.     The  excitement  and 


_Q''  CENTUIT 


THE  BEFORMATIOW.  433 

peril  of  the  times  were  such,  that  the  work  had  an  immensa 
circulation  among  the  reformers  all  over  Europe,  and  placed 
Calvin  at  the  head  of  the  advocates  of  the  new  doctrines. 

"  Scattered  far  and  wide  through  schools,  the  castles  of  the 
noblesse,  the  houses  of  the  citizens,  even  the  workshops  of  the 
people,  *  The  Institutes '  became  the  most  powerful  of  preach- 
ers. Around  this  book  the  Protestants  gathered  as  around  a 
standard.  They  found  every  thing  there,  —  doctrine,  disci- 
pline, church  organization."  ^ 

The  work  was  dedicated  to  the  king,  Francis  I.  In  thia 
dedication  Calvin  said,  "  It  is  your  office,  sire,  not  to  turn  away 
your  ears  or  your  heart  from  so  just  a  defence,  especially  since 
it  is  a  question  of  great  importance  to  know  how  the  glory  of 
God  shall  be  maintained  on  the  earth.  Oh  subject  worthy  of 
your  attention,  worthy  of  your  jurisdiction,  worthy  of  youi 
royal  throne ! " 

It  is  said  that  the  king  did  not  deign  even  to  read  this  epis- 
tle. In  1536  Calvin  was  appointed  pastor  of  a  church,  and 
professor  of  a  theological  school,  in  Geneva.  His  voluminous 
writings  continued  to  attract  the  attention  of  all  Europe,  and 
the  French  Protestants  generally  took  the  name  of  Calvinists. 
The  amount  of  labor  performed  by  Calvin  seems  almost  incredi- 
ble. He  preached  daily,  delivered  theological  lectures  three 
times  a  week,  and  attended  all  the  meetings  of  the  Consistory 
of  the  Association  of  Ministers,  and  was  the  leading  mind  in 
the  councils.  He  was  continually  consulted  for  advice  upoi 
questions  of  law  and  theology.  He  issued  a  vast  number  cf 
pamphlets  in  defence  of  his  opinions,  commentar  s  on  +he 
Bible,  and  maintained  a  very  extensive  correspcT;db^r:  with 
distinguished  men  all  over  Europe.  Besides  hir  numerous 
printed  sermons,  he  left  in  the  library  of  Genev?.  t*'C  chousana 
and  twenty-five  in  manuscript.* 

The  burning  of  Michael  Servetus  at  the  stake  for  heresy  is 
often  urged  as  an  irreparable  blot  upon  the  character  of  (  al- 
rin.     Candid  men  will  attribute  much  of  the  intoleran  •*  «f 

1  The  History  of  the  Protestants  in  Frajwje,  by  G.  de  F61ice,  p.  S3. 
*  Encyclopaedia  Americana. 

28 


434  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

individuals  in  those  days  to  the  spirit  of  the  times.  Speaking 
upon  this  subject,  M.  G.  de  Felice  says  very  judiciously,  — 

"  The  execution  of  Michael  Servetus  has  furnished  the  sub- 
ject of  a  disputation  constantly  renewed.  An  able  historian 
of  our  day,  M.  Mignet,  has  just  devoted  a  long  and  learned 
dissertation  to  it.  It  would  lead  us  entirely  beyond  our  plan 
to  enter  into  these  details.  1.  Servetus  was  not  an  ordinary 
heretic.  He  was  a,  bold  pantheist,  and  outraged  the  dogma 
of  all  Christian  communions  by  saying  that  God  in  three  per- 
sons was  a  Cerberus,  —  a  monster  with  three  heads.  2.  He  had 
already  been  condemned  to  death  by  the  Catholic  doctors  at 
Vienna,  in  Dauphiny.  3.  The  affair  was  judged,  not  by  Cal- 
vin, but  by  the  magistrates  of  Geneva ;  and,  if  it  is  objected 
that  his  advice  must  have  influenced  their  decision,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  recollect  that  the  councils  of  the  other  reformed  can- 
tons of  Switzerland  approved  the  sentence  with  a  unanimous 
voice.  4.  It  was,  in  fine,  of  the  highest  interest  for  the  Refor- 
mation to  separate  distinctly  its  cause  from  that  of  such  an 
unbeliever  as  Servetus.  The  Catholic  Church,  which  in  our 
day  accuses  Calvifi  of  having  participated  in  his  condemnation, 
much  more  would  have  accused  him  in  the  sixteenth  century 
with  having  solicited  his  acquittal."  ^ 

Naturally,  Calvin  was  impatient  and  irascible.  In  one  of 
his  letters  to  Bucer,  he  writes,  — 

"  I  have  no  harder  battles  against  my  sins,  which  are  great 
and  numerous,  than  those  in  which  I  seek  to  conquer  my  im- 
patience. I  have  not  yet  gained  the  mastery  over  this  raging 
beast." 

Calvin  died  the  27th  of  May,  1564,  in  the  fifty-fifth  year  of 
his  age.  He  was  of  middle  stature,  pale  countenance,  brilliant 
eyes,  and  was  extremely  abstemious  in  his  habits  of  living. 
For  many  years,  he  partook  of  but  one  meal  a  day.  In  the 
wiU  which  he  dictated  a  short  time  before  his  death,  he  called 
God  to  witness  the  sincerity  of  his  faith,  and  rendered  thanks 
to  him  for  having  employed  him  in  the  service  of  Jesua 
Christ. 

1  The  History  of  the  Protestants  of  France. 


THE  REFORMATION.  4S5 

Philip  Melancthon  was  alike  distinguished  for  his  native 
force  of  character,  his  intellectual  culture,  his  piety,  and  his 
amiability.  He  was  born  in  the  palatinate  of  the  Rhine,  on 
the  16th  of  February,  1497.  In  early  boyhood,  his  progress  in 
study,  especially  in  the  acquisition  of  the  ancient  languages, 
was  very  extraordinary.  At  the  age  of  thirteen,  he  entered  the 
University  at  Heidelberg.  Here  he  so  distinguished  himself 
by  his  scholarship,  that  in  one  year  he  toak  the  degree  of 
bachelor  of  arts,  and  became  tutor  to  several  of  the  sons  of 
the  nobility.  In  1512,  when  fifteen  ytixs  of  age,  he  repaired 
to  the  University  of  Tiibingen,  whsr©  he  devoted  j:ii]naseii 
with  great  assiduity  to  the  study  of  theology.  At  ths  ago 
of  eighteen  he  received  the  degraa  cf  master  of  arts,  gave  lec- 
tures on  the  Greek  and  Lr.tin  authors,  and  published  a  Greek 
grammar.  His  erudition  and  eloquence  gave  him  such  celeb- 
rity, that,  when  twenty-two  yeare  of  age,  he  was  invited  to 
Wittenberg  as  processor  of  the  Greek  language  ar.d  literature. 
Here  he  warmly  embraced  the  cause  of  evangelical  truth  aa 
advocated  by  the  reformers.  His  sound  judgment,  rich  clas- 
sical taste,  ardent  piety,  and  fervid  imagination,  gave  a  pecu- 
liar charm  to  every  thing  which  proceeded  from  his  pen.  Bring- 
ing these  qualities  into  alliance  with  the  energy,  impetuos- 
ity, and  enterprise  of  Luther,  he  contributed  greatly  to  the 
spread  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Reformation.  His  mild  spirit  in 
some  degree  softened  the  rigor  of  Luther,  and  his  writings 
were  universally  admired  by  the  Protestant  world.  Asso- 
ciated with  Luther,  he  drew  up  the  celebrated  "Confession" 
of  Augsburg  in  1530.  This,  with  the  "Apology"  for  it 
which  he  subsequently  composed,  gave  him  renown  through 
all  Europe. 

"  He  was  nowhere  more  amiable  than  in  the  bosom  of  his 
family.  No  one  who  saw  him  for  the  first  time  would  have 
recognized  the  great  reformer  in  his  almost  diminutive  figure, 
which  always  continued  meagre  from  his  abstemiousness 
and  industry.  But  his  high,  arched,  and  open  forehead,  anc 
his  bright,  handsome  eyes,  announced  the  energetic,  Hvelj 
mind  which  this  slight  covering  enclosed,  and  which  lir'bted 


436  HIST0E7  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 

up  his  countenance  when  he  spoke.  In  bis  conversation, 
pleasantries  were  intermingled  with  the  most  ss-gacious  re- 
marks ;  and  no  one  left  him  without  having  been  instructed 
ai-.-  pleased.  His  ready  benevolence,  which  was  the  funda- 
mental trait  of  his  character,  embraced  all  who  approached 
him.  Open  and  unsuspicious,  he  always  spoke  from  the  heart. 
Piety,  a  dignified  simplicity  of  manners,  generosity,  were  to 
him  so  natural,  that  it  was  difficult  for  him  to  ascribe  opposite 
qualities  to  any  man."  ^ 

For  nearly  half  a  century,  Melancthon  was  one  of  the  most 
prominent  actors  in  that  tremendous  conflict  between  the 
Papal  Church  and  Protestant  reform  which  then  agitated  all 
Europe.  Few  men  have  been  so  universally  and  ardently 
loved.  Notwithstanding  the  vehemence  of  Luther's  character, 
and  the  mildness  of  Melancthon's  spirit,  the  friendship  between 
these  two  remarkable  men  continued  unabated  through  life. 
From  all  parts  of  Europe  students  flocked  to  Wittenberg, 
lured  there  by  the  mental  and  moral  attractions  of  Melanc- 
thon. 

Tt  is  recorded  of  this  illustrious  man,  that,  in  the  commence- 
ment of  his  ministry,  he  fancied  that  no  one  could  resist  the 
glad  tidings  of  the  gospel.  With  powers  of  eloquence  which 
fascinated  thronging  audiences,  he  depicted  the  love  of  God, 
the  joys  of  heaven,  the  companionship  of  angels,  —  all  offered 
to  the  repentant  sinner  without  money  and  without  price ;  but 
the  multitudes  who  listened  with  delight  to  his  glowing  descrip- 
tions and  his  powerful  appeals  scattered  from  the  church  with  no 
disposition  manifested  to  give  their  hearts  to  the  Saviour,  or  to 
consecrate  their  lives  to  his  service.  At  length,  the  preacher, 
around  whose  pulpit  the  incense  of  popular  applause  was  con- 
tinually ascending,  was  heard  to  say  in  bitterness  of  lamenta- 
tion, "  Old  Adam  is  too  strong  for  young  Melancthon." 

This  great  and  good  man  died  at  Wittenberg  on  the  19th 
of  April,  1560,  in  the  sixty-third  year  of  his  age. 

Martin  Luther  has  generally  been  regarded  as  the  father  of 
,  the  Reformation.     He  was  certainly  one  of  the  greatest  men 

'  Encyclopaedia  Americana. 


THE  REFORMATION.  437 

of  the  sixteenth  century.  He  was  the  son  of  very  poor  parents, 
his  father  being  a  miner ;  and  was  bom  at  Eisleben,  Nov.  10, 
1483  Martin's  childhood  was  simply  such  as  was  to  be 
expected  in  the  home  of  poor  but  very  religious  parents.  At 
the  age  o'  fourteen  he  was  sent  to  school  at  Magdeburg ;  but 
his  destitution  was  so  great,  that  he  often  obtained  a  few  pence, 
which  contributed  essentially  to  his  support,  by  singing  in  the 
streets.  Still  he  made  rapid  progress  in  ptudy ;  and,  being 
taken  under  the  care  of  a  maternal  relation,  at  the  age  of 
eighteen  he  entered  the  University  of  Erfurt.  Here  the  close- 
ness cf  his  application  and  his  attainments  soon  attracted  the 
attention  of  his  teachers. 

The  Bible  at  that  time  was  a  sealed  book  to  the  laity. 
Luther,  to  his  great  delight,  found  a  copy  in  the  Latin  lan- 
guage m  the  library  of  the  university.  He  studied  it  with  the 
utmost  diligence,  and  became  so  interested  in  its  contents,  that 
he  resolved  to  devote  himself  to  the  study  of  divinity.  The  sud- 
den death  of  a  friend  at  this  time,  who  fell  dead  at  his  side,  so 
impressed  him  with  melancholy  emotions,  that  he  decided  ti 
withdraw  from  the  world,  and  immure  himself  in  the  glooms 
of  the  cloister.  Accordingly,  he  entered  the  monastery  of  the 
Augustines  at  Erfurt  in  the  year  1505,  and  patiently  submitted 
to  all  the  rigors  and  penances  imposed  upon  him  by  his  supe- 
riors. But  he  was  tortured  with  a  sense  of  sin :  none  of  his 
self-inflicted  sufferings  appeased  his  conscience.  His  mental 
agitation  threw  him  into  severe  and  dangerous  illness.  He  felt 
that  he  had  no  good  works  upon  which  he  could  rely  as  atone- 
ment for  his  many  infirmities,  and  his  good  sense  enabled  him 
to  contemplate  with  thorough  disgust  the  traffic  in  indul- 
gences. 

But  a  gleam  of  new  light  dawned  upon  his  mind  as  one  of 
the  brothers  spoke  to  him  of  salvation  from  sin  and  its  penalty 
through  faith  in  the  atonement  of  Jesus  Christ,  —  salvation 
through  faith,  and  not  by  works. 

The  high  intellectual  endowments  of  Luther  could  not  be 
concealed.  The  provincial  of  the  order  released  him  from  the 
menial  duties  of  the  cloister  that  he  might  devote  himself  to 


438  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

the  study  of  theology.  In  1507  he  was  ordained  a  Catholic 
priest ;  and,  one  year  after,  was  made  professor  of  philosophy  in 
the  University  of  Wittenberg.  Here  his  commanding  intel- 
lect, and  independence  of  character,  collected  around  him  a  large 
number  of  disciples.  A  visit  to  E-ome  in  1510  revealed  to 
him  the  corruption  of  the  clergy,  and  utterly  destroyed  his 
reverence  for  the  pope.  Upon  his  return  to  Wittenburg,  at 
the  age  of  twenty-nine,  he  was  made  a  doctor  in  theology,  and 
became  a  preacher. 

At  this  time  the  impudent  charlatan  Tetzel  was  traversing 
Germany,  peddling  out  his  indulgences.  The  zeal  and  tnd'g- 
nation  of  Luther  were  aroused:  he  preached  against  the  out- 
rage vehemently,  and  published  ninety-five  propositions,  which 
contained  an  irrefutable  attack  upon  the  infamous  traSc.  The 
propositions  were  at  once  declared  to  be  heretical;  but  no  arts 
of  flattery,  or  terrors  of  menace,  could  induce  the  fearless  Luther 
to  recant.  Pamphlet  after  pamphlet  proceeded  from  his  pen, 
issailing  the  corruptions  of  the  Church  ;  while  thousands  gatb- 
ered  to  listen  to  his  bold  denunciations  from  the  pulpit.  In 
1520  the  pope  issued  a  bull  of  excommunication  against  Luther 
and  his  frisnds,  and  his  writings  were  publicly  burned  at  Romt, 
Cologne,  and  Louvain.  Luther,  unintimidated,  publicly  burneJ 
the  bijl  of  Papal  excommunication  at  Wittenberg  on  the  lOtb 
of  December,  1520. 

Several  of  the  German  princes,  and  many  of  the  most  illng- 
tiious  nobles,  had  embraced  the  doctrines  of  Luther ;  so  that 
he  was  not  left  without  powerful  support.  Still  the  worlo  was 
amazed  at  the  boldness  of  an  obscure  monk,  who  thus  ventured 
to  bid  defiance  to  the  Catholic  clergy,  lo  the  fanatic  emperor 
of  Germany,  and  to  the  pope  himself.  Luther  was  summoned 
by  the  emperor  to  appear  at  the  Diet  of  Worms,  and  was  pro- 
vided with  a  safe-conduct  from  his  Majesty.  Yet  his  fnends 
trembled  in  fear  of  his  assassination.  It  was  upon  this  occa- 
eion,  when  urged  not  to  expose  himself  to  such  danger,  that  he 
gave  his  memorable  reply :  — 

"  If  there  were  as  many  devils  in  Worms  as  there  are  tile« 
on  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  I  would  still  go  there." 


TEE  REFORMATION.  439 

As  Lutlier  approached  Worms,  when  within  three  miles  of 
the  city,  a  cavalcade  of  two  thousand  citizens  came  out  ta 
honor  him  with  their  escort.  The  Emperor  Charles  V.  pre- 
sided at  the  diet.  The  body  was  composed  of  the  Archduke 
Fer<linand,  six  electors,  twenty-four  dukes,  reven  margraves, 
and  many  piinces,  counts,  lords,  and  ambassadors.  Luther's 
defence  was  considered  by  his  friends  unanswerable ;  and  his 
foes  seemed  to  think  that  the  only  reply  to  be  made  was  by 
the  dagger  of  the  assassin.  To  rescue  him  from  this  peril,  his 
powerful  friends  kidnapped  him  on  his  return,  as  we  have 
mentioned,  and  conveyed  him  to  the  Castle  of  Wartburg, 
where  for  ten  months  he  was  concealed.  These  months  of 
retirement  he  devoted  to  the  translation  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment into  German. 

But  his  impetuous  spirit  chafed  to  escape  from  the  prison- 
bars  which  protected  him.  Through  a  thousand  perils  he  at 
length  returned  to  Wittenberg,  and  there  commenced  anew 
his  life  of  tireless  zeal  in  assailing  the  corruptions  of  the 
Church.  He  drew  up  a  new  liturgy  for  the  service  of  his  fol- 
lowers, expurgated  of  its  empty  forms ;  urged  the  abolition 
of  monasteries,  which  had  mainly  become  the  resort  of  igno- 
rance and  vice ;  and  trampled  under  his  feet  the  prejudices  of 
papal  ecclesiasticism  by  marrying  a  nun,  Catherine  von  Bora. 
Luther  was  forty-two  years  of  age  when  he  took  this  impor- 
tant step. 

The  virtues  as  well  as  the  imperfections  of  this  extraordi- 
nary man  were  those  of  impetuosity,  courage,  self-reliance,  and 
indomitable  zeal.  He  was  often  very  severe.  "  The  severity 
which  he  used  in  the  defence  of  his  faith  by  no  means  dimin- 
ishes the  merit  of  his  constancy.  An  apology  may  easily  be 
found  for  the  frequent  rudeness  of  his  expressions  in  the  pre- 
vailing mode  of  speaking  and  thinking  ;  in  the  nature  of  his 
undertaking,  which  required  continual  contest ;  in  the  provo- 
iations  with  which  he  was  continually  assailed ;  in  his  frequent 
lickness  ;  and  in  his  excitable  imagination."  ^ 

Even  the  enemies  of  Luther,  who  so  bitterly  censure  the 

'  Encyclopaedia  Americana, 


440  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

severity  often  found  in  his  writings,  are  constrained  to  admit 
that  he  was  impelled  by  honest  and  honorable  motives.  Lu- 
ther says  of  himself,  — 

"  I  was  born  to  fight  with  devils  and  factions :  this  is  the 
reason  that  my  books  are  so  boisterous  and  stormy.  It  is  mj 
business  to  remove  obstructions,  to  cut  down  thorns,  to  fill  up 
quagmires,  and  to  open  and  make  straight  the  paths.  But,  if 
I  must  necessarily  have  some  failing,  let  me  rather  speak  the 
truth  with  too  great  severity  than  once  to  act  the  hypocrite, 
and  conceal  the  truth." 

No  one  can  be  informed  of  the  amount  of  labor  performed 
by  Luther,  without  astonishment.  While  preaching  several 
times  each  week,  and  often  every  day,  conducting  a  very  exten- 
sive and  important  correspondence  with  the  reformers  all  over 
Europe,  he  was  one  of  the  most  prolific  writers  of  any  age, 
and  rendered  his  name  immortal  by  translating  the  Bible  into 
the  German  language.  This  latter  work  alone  one  would 
deem  sufficient  to  have  engrossed  the  most  industrious  ener- 
gies for  a  lifetime.  His  admirable  hymns  are  still  sung  in  all 
the  churches ;  and  the  tune  of  "  Old  Hundred,"  which  he  com- 
posed, will  last  while  time  endures.  In  the  performance  of 
such  labors,  he  lived  until  he  was  sixty-three  years  of  age. 
Just  before  he  died,  he  wrote  to  a  friend  in  the  following 
pathetic  strain :  — 

"  Aged,  worn  out,  weary,  spiritless,  and  now  blind  of  one 
eye,  I  long  for  a  little  rest  and  quietness.  Yet  I  have  as 
much  to  do,  in  writing  and  preaching  and  acting,  as  if  I  had 
never  written  or  preached  or  acted.  I  am  weary  of  the  world, 
and  the  world  is  weary  of  me.  The  parting  will  be  easy,  like 
that  of  the  guest  leaving  the  inn.  I  pray  only  that  God  will 
be  gracious  to  me  in  my  last  hour,  and  I  shall  quit  the  world 
without  reluctance." 

A  few  days  after  writing  the  above,  Martin  Luther  died,  at 
Eisleben,  —  on  the  18th  of  February,  1546.  He  was  buried  in 
the  Castle  Church  at  Wittenberg. 

John  Wickliflfe  is  often  caUed  "  the  morning  star "  of  the 
Reformation.     He  was  bom  in  Yorkshire,  England,  about  the 


THE  REFORMATION.  441 

year  1324.  In  his  earliest  years  lie  developed  unusual  mental 
endowments,  and  graduated  at  Queen's  College,  Oxford,  with 
high  honors.  At  the  age  of  thirty-two  he  published  a  treatise 
upon  "  The  Last  Age  of  the  Church,"  in  which  he  ventured 
to  assail  some  of  the  assumptions  of  the  pope,  and  severely  to 
attack  the  encroachments  of  the  mendicant  fiiars.  In  1372, 
Wickliffe,  having  received  the  title  of  D.D.,  deliveiad  lectures 
on  theology  at  Oxford  witii  great  applause.  At  ths-t  time  a 
controversy  was  beginning  to  arise  between  the  pope  and  Ed- 
ward III.,  King  of  Engjand.  Edward,  sustained  by  his  par- 
liament, refused  to  submit  to  the  vassalage  which  the  pope  had 
exacted  of  his  predecessors.  Wickliffe  with  his  pen  very  suc- 
cessfully defended  the  position  taken  by  the  king.  He  thus 
secured  the  favor  of  his  monarch,  but  exasperated  the  pope, 
Gregory  XI.  Wickliffe  was  accused  of  heresy.  The  pope 
issued  a  bull,  and  nineteen  articles  of  alleged  false  doctrine 
were  drawn  up  against  him.  Gregory  issued  three  bulls  ad- 
dressed to  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  the  Bishop  of 
London,  ordering  the  seizure  and  imprisonment  of  Wickliffe. 

In  the  mean  time,  Edward  III.  had  died ;  but  the  British 
court  and  the  populace  of  London  rallied  so  enthusiastically 
around  Wickliffe,  that  no  judgment  could  be  taken  against 
him.  Soon  after  this,  Gregory  XL  died ;  and  all  proceedings 
against  the  English  reformer  were  dropped.  But  the  zeal  of 
Wickliffe  was  thoroughly  aroused ;  and,  encouraged  by  the  pow- 
erful support  he  received  from  the  British  court  and  from  the 
people,  he  assailed  with  increasing  freedom  the  exorbitant 
pretensions  of  the  court  of  Eome.  Speaking  of  his  labors, 
Mcintosh  says,  — 

"  The  new  opinions  on  religion  which  now  arose  mingled 
with  the  general  spirit  of  Christianity  in  promoting  the  prog- 
ress of  emancipation,  and  had  their  share  in  the  few  disor- 
ders which  accompanied  it.  Wickliffe,  the  celebrated  reformer, 
had  become  one  of  the  most  famous  doctors  of  the  English 
Church.  His  lettered  education  rendered  him  no  stranger  to 
the  severity  with  which  Dante  and  Chaucer  had  lashed  the  vices 
<t^  the  clergy  without  sparing  the  corruptions  of  the  Eoman  see 


442  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

itselt.  His  theological  learning  and  mystical  piety  led  him 
to  reprobate  the  whole  system  of  wealth  and  worldliness,  by 
which  a  blind  bounty  had  destroyed  the  apostolical  simplicity 
and  primitive  humility  of  the  Christian  religion." 

This  eminent  man,  who  ia  the  end  of  the  fourteenth  century 
commenced  the  assault  upon  tne  corruptions  of  the  court  of 
Kome,  died  of  a  paralytic  strOii;e  on  the  31st  December,  1384, 
His  doctrine  and  his  spirit  survived  him,  and  paved  the  way 
for  the  final  and  entire  separation  of  the  Church  of  England 
from  that  of  Rome,  The  exasperation  which  his  writings 
created  in  the  bosoms  of  the  advocates  of  the  Papacy  may  be 
inferred  from  the  fact,  that  in  the  year  1425,  forty-one  years 
after  his  death,  the  Council  of  Constance  pronounced  his  writ- 
ings heretical,  and  ordered  his  bones  to  be  taken  up  and 
burned  ;  which  sentence  was  executed. 

John  Knox,  who  was  the  most  distinguished  of  the  advo- 
cates of  the  Reformation  in  Scotland,  was  bom  of  an  ancient 
family,  at  Gifford,  East  Lothian,  in  1505.  In  early  youth 
he  took  the  degree  of  master  of  arts  at  St.  Andrew's,  and 
entered  upon  the  study  of  theology.  He  soon  became  weary 
of  studying  the  dogmas  taught  in  the  Catholic  schools,  and 
eagerly  sought  light  in  the  plainer  precepts  of  a  more  common- 
sense  and  practical  philosophy.  Thus  ins'^ucted,  he  aban- 
doned all  thoughts  of  officiating  in  the  Church  of  Rome,  whose 
pageants  and  encroachments,  both  secular  and  ecclesiastical, 
disgusted  him.  Some  of  the  doctrines  of  the  reformers  had 
already  penetrated  Scotland.  Two  of  the  lords  who  had  em- 
braced these  principles  employed  him  as  tutor  to  their  sons. 
Here  he  preached,  not  only  to  his  pupils,  but  to  others,  who 
were  drawn  in  ever-increasing  numbers  by  his  fervid  elo- 
quence. 

The  Catholic  Church  was  still  an  immense  power  in  Scot- 
land ;  and  Cardinal  Beaton,  Archbihlaop  of  St.  Andrew's,  com- 
menced proceedings  against  Knox,  which  compelled  him  to 
take  shelter  in  the  Castle  of  St.  Andrew's.  Here,  under  power- 
ful protection,  he  continued  boldly  to  preach  the  principles  of 
the  Reformation,  notwithstanding  the  hostility  of  the  Papal 


THE  REFORMATION.  443 

jriesthood.  In  July,  1547,  the  Castle  of  St.  Andrew's  capitu- 
lated to  the  French,  with  whom  Scotland  was  then  at  war. 
Knox  was  taken  captive,  and  was  carried  with  the  garrison  to 
France,  where  he  remained  a  prisoner  on  board  the  galleys  for 
nearly  two  years.  Upon  being  released,  he  returned  to  Lon- 
don, where  he  recommenced  preaching  as  an  itinerant,  with 
vehement  eloquence  which  gave  him  thronged  audiences 
wherever  he  went. 

Upon  the  accession  of  Mary,  a  fanatic  Catholic,  to  the  throne 
of  England,  the  most  sanguinaiy  laws  were  revived  against 
the  reformers.  Knox  fled  to  Geneva,  and  was  soon  invited  to 
become  the  minister  to  a  colony  of  English  refugees  at  Frank- 
fort. Notwithstap  iir  g  the  persecution  by  Mary,  the  advocates 
of  the  reformed  religion,  both  in  England  and  Scotland,  rapidly 
increased,  so  that  in  1555  Knox  ventured  to  revisit  his  native 
land,  and  preached  with  increasing  energy  and  boldness.  His 
fearlessness  won  for  him  the  admiration  of  his  f -lends,  and  the 
execration  of  his  foes.  Knox  being  at  one  time  absent  on  a 
visit  to  Geneva,  the  Papal  bishops  condemned  him  to  death  as 
a  heretic,  and  burned  him  in  effigy  at  the  stake  at  Edinburgh. 
Knox  drew  up  an  energetic  remonstrance  against  this  condem- 
nation of  a  man  absent  and  unheard,  and  published  a  pam- 
phlet, written  in  his  most  furious  style  of  eloquence,  entitled, 
"  The  First  Blast  of  a  Trumpet  against  the  Monstrous  Regimen 
of  Women."  This  violent  pamphlet  was  aimed  at  Bloody 
Mary,  Queen  of  England,  and  Mary  of  Lorraine,  widow  of 
James  V.,  Queen- Regent  of  Scotland. 

But  the  shaft  aimed  at  Mary  the  Papist  pierced  the  bosom 
of  Elizabeth,  a  Protestant  queen  who  succeeded  her.  This 
haughty  princess  could  not  forgive  a  man  who  had  written  a 
diatribe  against  the  "monstrous  regimen  of  women."  But 
Knox,  surrounded  by  menaces,  and  in  constant  peril  of  lib- 
erty and  life,  continued  fearlessly  to  assail  the  corruptions 
of  the  Church.  Though  the  Papal  powers  in  Scotland  were 
sustained  by  the  armies  of  Catholic  France,  —  for  Mary  of 
Lorraine  was  sister  of  the  powerful  Duke  of  Guise,  —  still, 
marshalled  under  so  dauntless  a  leader  as  Knox,  the  reform- 


444  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANXTY. 

ers  of  Scotland  advanced  from  victory  to  victory.  At  one  time 
he  so  inflamed  the  populace  by  a  vehement  harangue  Kg^iinst 
idolatry,  that  the  excited  multitude  broke  into  the  churches, 
destroyed  the  altars,  tore  the  pictures  to  shreds,  dashed  the 
images  into  fragments,  and  levelled  several  monasteries  with 
the  ground.  These  lawless  proceedings  were  severely  censured 
by  the  prominent  men  of  the  reform  party  in  Scotland,  and 
by  the  leaders  of  the  Reformation  throughout  Europe. 

Protestant  England  sent  an  army  to  aid  the  Protestants  in 
Scotland.  The  Papal  queen-regent  Mary,  with  her  army  of 
French  supporters,  was  driven  from  the  kingdom  ;  the  Scottish 
parliament  was  re-established,  the  majority  of  the  members 
having  embraced  Protestant  opinions ;  the  old  Papal  coui-ts 
were  abolished ;  the  exercise  of  religious  worship  according  to 
the  rites  of  the  Roman  Church  was  prohibited,  and  the  doctrine 
and  discipline  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  established  an  the 
religion  of  the  realm. 

In  August,  1561,  the  unfortunate  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots, 
arrived  in  Scotland  to  reign  in  her  own  right.  She  was  a  zeal- 
ous Catholic,  and  immediately  commenced  measures  to  re-estab- 
lish the  religion  of  Rome  throughout  her  dominions.  Knox, 
from  the  pulpit,  opened  warfare  upon  the  queen  and  her  parti- 
sans with  consummate  ability,  and  with  intrepidity  which  never 
flinched  from  any  danger.  Upon  the  marriage  of  the  queer 
with  the  youthful  Darnley,  Knox  declared  from  the  pulpit,  — 

"  God,  in  punishment  for  our  ingratitude  and  sins,  ha? 
appointed  women  and  boys  to  reign  over  us." 

At  length,  worn  out  with  incessant  toil  and  anxiety,  and 
shocked  by  the  tidings  of  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew, 
he  took  to  his  bed,  and  died  Nov.  24, 1572,  in  the  sixty-seventh 
year  of  his  age.  The  most  distinguished  men  in  Scotland 
attended  his  funeral,  paying  marked  honor  to  his  memory. 
As  his  body  was  lowered  into  the  grave.  Earl  Morton,  then 
Regent  of  Scotland,  said, — 

"  There  lies  one  who  never  feared  the  face  of  man  ;  whc 
hath  been  often  threatened  with  dag  and  dagger,  and  yet  hatt 
ended  bis  days  in  peace  and  honor ;  for  he  had  God's  provi- 


THE  REFORMATION.  445 

dence  watcliing  over  him  in  an  especial  manner  when  his  life 
was  sought." 

Robertson  the  historian,  commenting  upon  the  character  of 
this  illustrious  reformer,  remarks,  with  obvious  truthfulness, 
that  the  severity  of  his  deportment,  his  impetuosity  of  temper, 
and  zealous  intolerance,  were  qualities  which,  though  they  ren- 
dered him  less  amiable,  fitted  him  to  advance  the  Reformation 
among  a  fierce  people,  and  to  surmount  opposition  to  which  a 
more  gentle  spirit  would  have  yielded.^ 

It  is  pleasant  to  turn  from  these  scenes  of  sin  and  misery  to 
a  beautiful  exemplification  of  true  piety,  —  a  spirit  of  devotion 
to  God  so  true,  that  it  is  scarcely  sullied  by  the  errors  and 
imperfections  of  an  age  of  darkness. 

In  every  denomination  you  can  find  those  who  are  a  dis- 
grace to  the  cause  of  Christ.  There  was  a  Judas  even  among 
the  apostles.  In  every  Christian  denomination  you  will  fijid 
those  who  are  burning  and  shining  lights  in  the  world ;  who 
live  the  life  of  the  righteous,  die  the  death  of  the  righteous, 
and  go  home  to  glory. 

About  a  hundred  and  sixty  years  ago,  there  was  in  the  heart 
of  Germany  a  young  duchess,  Eleonora,  residing  in  the  court 
of  her  father  Philip,  the  elector  palatine.  In  childhood  she 
became  a  Christian,  —  an  earnest  and  warm-hearted  Christian. 
Guided  by  the  teachings-  of  her  spiritual  instructors,  who, 
though  doubtless  sincere,  had  ingrafted  upon  the  precepts  of 
the  Bible  the  traditions  and  superstitions  of  that  dark  age,  she 
was  taught  to  deprive  herself  of  almost  every  innocent  grati- 
fication, and  to  practise  upon  her  fragile  frame  all  the  severi- 
ties of  an  anchorite.  Celibacy  was  especially  commended  to 
her  as  a  virtue  peculiarly  grateful  to  God ;  and  she  conse- 
quently declined  all  solicitations  for  her  hand. 

Leopold,  the  widowed  emperor  of  Germany,  sent  a  magnifi- 
cent reil'iue  to  the  palace  of  the  grand  elector,  and  solicited 
Eleonora  for  his  bride.  It  was  the  most  brilliant  match 
Europe  could  furnish  ;  but  Eleonora,  notwithstauding  all  the 
importunities  of  her  parents,  rejected  the  proffered  crown. 

'  Kncyclopicdiii  Americana. 


446  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

As  the  emperor  urged  his  plea,  the  conscientious  maiden, 
that  she  might  render  herself  personally  unattractive  to  hir  , 
neglected  her  dress,  and  exposed  herself,  unhonneted,  to  .-he 
Bun  and  wind.  She  thus  succeeded  in  repelling  his  suit ;  and 
the  emperor  married  Claudia  of  Tyrol. 

The  elector  palatine  was  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  the 
minor  princes  of  Europe  ;  and  his  court,  in  gayety  and  splen- 
dor, rivalled  even  that  of  the  emperor.  Eleonora  was  com- 
pelled to  be  a  prominent  actor  in  the  gorgeous  saloons  of  her 
father's  palace,  and  to  mingle  with  the  festive  throng  in  all 
their  pageants  of  pleasure. 

But  her  heart  was  elsewhere.  Several  hours  every  day 
were  devoted  to  prayer  and  religious  reading.  She  kept  a 
minute  journal,  in  which  she  scrupulously  recorded  and  con- 
demned her  failings.  She  visited  the  sick  in  lowly  cottages, 
and  with  her  own  hands  performed  the  most  self-denying 
duties  required  at  the  bedside  of  pain  and  death. 

After  the  lapse  of  three  years,  Claudia  died ;  and  again  the 
widowed  emperor  sought  the  hand  of  Eleonora.  Her  spiritual 
advisers  now  urged  that  it  was  her  duty  to  accept  the  imperial 
alliance,  since  upon  the  throne  she  could  render  herself  so 
useful  in  extending  the  influence  of  the  Church.  Promptly 
she  yielded  to  the  voice  of  duty,  and,  charioted  in  splendor, 
was  conveyed  a  bride  to  Vienna. 

But  her  Christian  character  remained  unchanged.  She 
carried  the  penance  and  self-sacrifice  of  the  cloister  into  the 
voluptuousness  of  the  palace.  The  imperial  table  was  loaded 
with  every  luxury ;  but  Eleonora,  the  empress,  drank  only 
cold  water,  and  ate  of  fare  as  humble  as  could  be  found  in  any 
peasant's  hut.  On  occasions  of  state,  it  was  needful  that  she 
should  be  dressed  in  embroidered  robes  of  purple  and  goX'l ; 
but,  to  prevent  any  possibility  of  the  risings  of  pride,  hei 
dress  and  jewelry  were  so  arranged  with  sharp  brass  pricking 
the  flesh,  that  she  was  kept  in  a  state  of  constant  discomfort. 
Thus  she  endeavored,  while  discharging  wit?"  the  utmost  fidelity 
the  duties  of  a  wife  and  an  empress,  to  be  ever  reminded  that 
life  is  but  probation. 


THE  REFORMATION.  4A'J 

These  mistaken  austerities,  caused  by  the  darkness  of  the 
age,  only  show  how  sincere  was  her  consecration  to  God. 
When  Eleonora  attended  the  opera  with  the  emperor,  she  took 
with  her  the  Psalms  of  David,  bound  to  represent  the  books  of 
the  performance,  and  thus  unostentatiously  endeavored  to  shield 
her  mind  from  the  profane  and  indelicate  allusions  with  \,hich 
the  operas  of  those  days  were  filled,  and  from  which,  as  yet, 
they  are  by  no  means  purified. 

She  translated  the  Psalms  and  several  other  devotional  books 
into  German  verse  for  the  benefit  of  her  subjects.  She  was 
often  seen,  with  packages  of  garments  and  baskets  of  food, 
entering  the  cottages  of  the  poor  peasantry  around  her  country 
palace,  ministering  like  an  angel  of  mercy  to  all  their  wants. 

At  length  her  husband,  the  emperor,  was  taken  sick.  Eleo- 
nora watched  at  his  pillow  with  all  the  assiduity  of  a  Sister  of 
Charity  :  she  hardly  abandoned  her  post  for  a  moment,  by  day 
or  by  night,  until,  with  her  own  hands,  she  closed  his  eyes  as 
he  slept  in  death. 

Eleonora  survived  her  husband  fifteen  years,  devoting  her- 
self through  all  this  period  to  the  instruction  of  the  ignorant, 
to  nursing  the  sick,  to  feeding  and  clothing  the  poor.  All  pos- 
sible luxury  she  discarded,  and  endeavored  as  closely  as  possi- 
ble to  imitate  her  Saviour,  who  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head. 

Her  death  was  like  the  slumber  of  a  child  who  falls  asleep 
upon  its  mother's  bosom.  At  her  express  request,  her  funeral 
was  unattended  with  any  display.  She  directed  that  there 
should  be  inscribed  upon  her  tombstone  simply  the  words,  — 

"Eleonora,  —  a  Poor  Sinner." 

This  brief  narrative  shows  very  truly  what  is  the  true 
nature  of  religion, — the  religion  of  Jesus.  It  shows  its  spirit 
independently  of  all  external  customs  and  manners.  No  one 
can  doubt  that  Eleonora  was  a  Christian ;  and  yet  we  can  all 
see,  that,  in  that  dark  age,  she  was  not  well  instructed.  She 
practised  austerities  which  Jesus  does  not  require  ;  aud  yet 
who  can  doubt  the  cordiality  of  her  welcome  at  the  celestial 
gates  ? 


448  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

She  took  up  a  far  heavier  cross  than  any  which  the  disciples 
of  Jesus  are  ordinarily  required  to  lift.  She  simply  did  what 
she  thought  it  her  duty  to  do  as  a  disciple  of  Jesus.  And 
now,  for  a  century  and  a  half,  she  has  been  an  angel  in 
heaven ;  and  she  finds  that  all  these  light  afflictions  of  her 
earthly  life  have  indeed  worked  out  for  her  a  far  more  exceed- 
ing and  eternal  weight  of  glory. 

Mothers  and  daughters,  Jesus  loves  you ;  he  loves  you  with 
inconceivable  love.  He  has  died  to  redeem  you.  He  now 
lives  to  intercede  for  you.  With  tearful  eyes  he  says,  "  How 
can  I  give  thee  up  ?  My  daughter,  give  me  thy  heart :  come 
unto  me,  and  be  saved." 

He  is  ready  to  meet  you  at  the  celestial  gates,  and  to  give 
you  a  cordial  welcome.  He  is  ready  to  lead  you  to  the  heav- 
enly mansion,  and  to  say,  "  This  is  your  home  forever."  He  ia 
ready  to  introduce  you  to  angel-companionship,  that  you  may, 
through  endless  ages,  share  their  songs  and  their  everlasting 

joy- 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 


THE   MASSACRE    OF    ST,    BARTHOLOMEW. 


Principles  of  tbe  two  Parties.  —  Ferdinand's  Appeal  to  the  Pope.  — The  Celibaoj 
of  the  Clergy. —  Maximilian.  — His  Protection  of  the  Protestants. —The  Ref- 
ormation in  France.  —  Jeanne  d'Albret,  Queen  of  Navarre.  —  Proposed  Mar- 
riage of  Henry  of  Navarre  and  Marguerite  of  France.  —  Perfidy  of  Catharma 
de  Medici.  —  The  Nuptials.  —  The  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew.  —  Details  of 
its  Horrors.  —  Indignation  of  Protestant  Europe.  —  Death  of  Charles  IX. 


HE  Papal  party  was  mainly  a  political  party,  con- 
sisting of  those  who  were  rioting  in  possession 
of  despotic  power.  They  considered  the  Protes- 
tant religion  as  peculiarly  hostile  to  despotism 
in  the  encouragement  it  afforded  to  education,  to 
the  elevation  of  the  masses,  a-id  to  the  diffusion 
of  those  principles  of  fraternal  equality  which 
(jtiri..t  enjoined.  The  Catholic  religion  was  considered  the 
^Teat  bulwark  of  kingly  power,  constraining,  by  all  the  terrors 
of  superstition,  the  benighted  multitudes  to  submit  to  civil 
intolerance. 

Ferdinand  I.,  brother  of  Charles  V.,  was  king  of  the  two 
realms  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia.  He  devoted  all  his  ener- 
gies to  eradicating  the  doctrines  of  the  Reformation  from  his 
domains :  the  most  rigorous  censorship  of  the  press  was  estab- 
lished, and  no  foreign  work,  unexamined,  was  permitted  co 
■^nter  his  realms ;  the  fanatic  order  of  Jesuits  was  encouraged 
by  royal  patronage,  and  intrusted  with  the  education  of  the 
young. 

Still  Protestantism  was  making  rapid  strides  through  Eufp*. 


450         .  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

It  had  become  the  dominant  religion  in  Denmark  and  Sweden, 
and  was  firmly  established  in  England  by  the  accession  of 
Elizabeth  to  the  throne  :  in  France,  also,  the  reformed  religion 
had  made  extensive  inroads,  gathering  to  its  defence  many  of 
the  noblest  in  rank  and  intellect  in  the  realm :  in  Spain  and 
Portugal,  the  terrors  of  the  Inquisition  had  checked  the  progress 
of  religious  truth. 

Ferdinand,  King  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia,  as  Archduke  of 
Austria,  inherited  the  Austrian  States,  and  thus  became  virtu- 
ally the  founder  of  the  Austrian  monarchy.  The  majority  of 
♦•he  inhabitants  of  the  Austrian  States  had  become  Protes- 
tant?. They  were  so  strong  in  intelligence,  rank,  and  numbers, 
that  Ferdinand  did  not  dare  to  attempt  to  crush  them  with  a 
merciless  hand;  though  he  threw  ever;  oost^cle  he  could  in  the 
Tray  of  Protestant  worship,  forbidding  the  circulation  of  Lu- 
ther's translation  of  the  Bible.  The  Protestants  insisted  that 
communicants  at  the  Lord's  Supper  should  receive  both  the 
bread  and  the  wine :  i-his  tho  Papal  court  vehemently  rejected. 
Ferdinand  was  in  fav  r  of  granting  this  concession :  he  wrote 
to  the  pope,  — 

"  In  Bohemia,  no  persuasion,  no  argument,  no  violence,  not 
even  arms  and  war,  have  succeeded  in  abolishing  the  use  of  the 
wine  as  well  as  the  bread  in  the  sacrament.  If  this  is  granted, 
they  may  be  re-united  to  the  Church  ;  but,  if  refused,  they  will 
be  driven  into  the  party  of  the  Protestants.  So  many  priests 
have  been  degraded  by  their  diocesans  for  administering  tht 
sacrament  in  both  kinds,  that  the  country  is  almost  deprived 
of  priests.  Henco  children  die  or  grow  up  tc  maturity  with 
out  baptism ;  and  men  and  women  of  aU  ages  and  of  all  ranks 
live,  like  the  brutes,  in  the  grossest  ignorance  of  God  and  of 
religion." 

The  celibacy  of  the  clergy  was  another  point  upon  which 
the  Protestants  were  at  issue  with  tbe  Papal  coimcils.  Upon 
this  subject  Ferdinand  wrote  to  the  pope  in  the  following  very 
sensible  terms :  — 

"If  a  permission  to  the  clergy  to  be  married  cannot  be 
granted,  may  not  married  men  of  learning  and  probity  be 


THE  MASSACRE  OF  ST.    BARTHOLOMEW.  451 

Drdained,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  Eastern  Church ;  or 
married  priests  be  tolerated  for  a  time,  provided  that  they  act 
according  to  the  Catholic  or  Christian  faith  ?  And  it  may  be 
justly  asked  whether  such  concessions  would  not  be  far  prefera- 
ble to  tolerating,  as  has  unfortunately  beer  ''^ne,  fornication 
and  concubinage.  I  cannot  avoid  "i-'.cing,  ^/£at  is  '  common 
observation,  that  priests  who  live  i  coucubiiiag'S  are  guilty  of 
greater  sin  than  those  who  are  ria  ried  ;  xir  the  last  only  trans- 
gress a  law  which  is  capable  a.  Deing  changed,  whereas  the 
first  sin  against  a  divine  law  which  is  capable  of  neither  change 
nor  dispensation." 

The  pope,  thus  pressed  by  the  importunity  of  Ferdinand, 
reluctantly  consented  to  the  administration  of  the  cup  to  the 
laity  in  his  domains,  but  resolutely  refused  to  tolerate  the  mar- 
riage of  the  clergy.  Ferdinand  was  so  chagrined  by  this  obsti- 
nacy, which  rendered  any  conciliation  between  the  antagonistic 
parties  in  his  State  impossible,  that  he  was  thrown  into  a  fever, 
of  which  he  died  on  the  25th  of  July,  1564. 

The  eldest  son  of  Ferdinand  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  tl:e 
Austrian  monarchy  with  the  title  of  Maximilian  II.  He 
appears  to  have  been  a  truly  good  man,  —  a  sincere  disciple 
of  Jesus,  of  enlarged  and  cultivated  mind.  Though  he  adhered 
nominally  to  the  Catholic  faith,  he  was  the  ooi^.sistent  and  self- 
sacrificing  friend  of  the  Protestants.  Before  his  accession  to 
the  crown  he  appointed  a  clergyman  of  the  Protestant  faith 
for  his  chaplain,  and  received  the  sacrament  in  both  kinds 
from  his  hands.  When  warned  that  by  such  a  course  he 
could  never  hope  to  win  the  imperial  crown  of  Germany,  he 
replied,  — 

"I  will  sacrifice  aU  worldly  interests  for  tne  sake  of  my 
salvation." 

His  father  threatened  to  disinheiit  him  if  he  did  not 
renounce  all  connection  with  the  P-otestants. 

But  this  noble  man,  true  to  tie  teaching^"  of  his  conscience, 
would  net  allow  the  loss  of  crowu  to  induce  him  t<:  swerve 
from  his  faith.  In  anticipafon  ;f  disinheritance,  and  banish- 
ment from  the  kingdom,  uq  vrcoth  tc  the  Protestant  electoi 
palatine,  — 


452  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

"I  have  so  deeply  oflfended  my  father  by  maintaining  a 
Lutheran  preacher  in  my  service,  that  I  am  apprehensive  of 
being  expelled  as  a  fugitive,  and  hope  to  find  an  asylum  in 
your  court." 

Though  Maximilian,  upon  succeeding  to  the  throne,  main- 
tained in  his  c.vart  the  usages  of  the  Papal  Church,  he  re- 
mained the  kmd  Liend  of  the  Protestants,  ever  seeking  to 
shield  them  from  persecution,  claiming  for  them  a  liberal  tol- 
eration, and  endeavoring  in  all  ways  to  promote  fraternal 
religious  feeling  throughout  Iiis  domains. 

The  prudence  of  Maximiiiai  greatly  allayed  the  bitterness 
of  religious  strife  in  Germany,  while  other  portions  of  Europe 
were  desolated  with  the  fiercest  warfare  between  the  Catholics 
and  the  Protestants.  In  France  particularly,  the  conflict 
raged  with  merciless  fury.  John  Calvin  soon  became  the 
recognized  head  of  reformation  there. 

Jeanne  d'Albret,  Queen  of  Navarre,  was  a  Protestant.  Her 
husband  was  a  Catholic.  They  had  one  son, — Henry,  subse- 
quently Henry  IV.  of  France.  Gradually  the  strife  between 
Catholics  an.-  Protestants  became  so  fierce,  that  all  Europe  was 
in  arms,  —  the  Catholics  combining  to  annihilate  the  Protes- 
tants, the  Protestants  arming  for  self-protection.  Anthony  of 
Bourbon,  Duke  of  Vendome,  the  husband  of  the  Queen  of  Na- 
varre, and  father  of  Henry  IV.,  abandoned  his  Protestant  wife 
and  his  child,  and  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  Catholic 
armies.  The  Queen  of  Navarre,  the  most  illustrious  Protestant 
sovereign  on  the  Continent,  was  then  recognized  as  the  head  of 
the  Protestant  armies.  Henry,  her  son,  following  the  example 
of  his  noble  Christian  mother,  espoused  the  same  cause. 

The  kingdom  of  Navarre,  a  territory  of  wild  ravines  and 
majestic  swells  of  land,  ofien  rising  into  towering  mountains 
upon  the  northern  slope  of  the  Pyrenees,  bordered  France 
upon  the  south :  its  anne:^  ation  to  France  was  deemed  impor- 
tant by  the  French  court.  An  impotent,  characterless,  worth- 
less boy,  Cliarles  IX.,  was  nominally  king  of  France :  his 
mother,  the  infamous  Catharine  de  Medici,  was  the  real 
sovereign.     She  was  as  far^tx^i,  as  cruel,  as  wicked  a  woman 


THE  MASSACRE  OF  ST.   BARTHOLOMEW.  453 

as  ever  breathed.  History,  perhaps,  records  not  another 
instance  where  a  mother  did  every  thing  in  her  power  to 
plunge  her  own  son  into  every  species  of  debauchery,  th?.t  she 
might  enfeeble  him  in  body  and  in  mind,  so  as  to  enj:ble  her 
tp  retain  the  supreme  power. 

This  vile  woman  had  a  daughter,  Marguerite,  as  infamous 
as  herself.  That  Navarre  might  be  annexed  to  I'rance,  the 
plan  was  formed  of  uniting  in  marriage  Henry  and  Margue- 
rite, the  heirs  of  the  two  thrones.  The  scheme  was  formed  by 
the  statesmen  of  the  two  coantries.  Henry  and  Marguerite, 
though  thoroughly  detesting  each  other,  made  no  obj  action  to 
the  arrangement,  which  would  promote  their  mutual  ambition. 
The  marriage-tie  had  no  sacredness  for  either  of  them.  Cath- 
arine was  delighted  with  the  arrang-ment;  for  she  had  forme  1 
the  plan  of  .inviting  all  the  leaders  cf  the  Protestant  party  to 
Paris  to  attend  the  nuptials,  and  there  to  assassinate  them.  Orj 
of  respect  to  their  devoted  friend,  the  Protestant  Queen  of 
Navarre,  and  her  Protestant  son,  they  would  be  all  likely  to 
attend.  The  leaders  being  all  thus  assembled  in  Paris,  she 
would  have  them  entirely  at  her  disposal.  Tken,  having  cut 
off  the  leaders,  in  the  consternation  which  would  ensue,  she 
would,  by  a  wide-spread  conspiracy,  have  the  Protestant  popu- 
lation throughout  all  France  —  men,  women,  and  children  — 
put  to  death. 

With  measureless  hypocrisy,  feigning  the  highest  satisfac- 
tion in  prospect  of  the  union  of  the  Catholics  and  the  Protes- 
tants, Catharine  sent  very  affectionate  messages  to  the  nobles, 
and  all  the  men  of  prominence  of  the  reformed  faith,  begging 
that  there  might  be  no  more  hostility  between  them.  She 
entreated  them  to  attend  the  nuptials,  £-ud  assured  them  of 
the  high  gratification  with  which  she  contemplated  the  mar- 
riage of  her  daughter  with  a  Protestant  prince^  who  was  thus 
destined  to  become  king  of  France. 

While  plotting  the  details  of  perhaps  the  most  horribl.. 
massacre  earth  has  ever  known,  she  did  every  thing  in  her 
power  to  lull  her  unsuspecting  victims  into  security.  Tha 
Queen  of  Navarre  and  Lej.'  -<on  were  invited  to  the  Castle  cf 


454  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Blois  tc  make  arrangements  for  the  wedding.  They  were 
received  by  Catharine,  and  her  weak,  depraved  son,  Charles 
IX.,  with  extravagant  displays  of  affection.  The  Protestant 
nobled  and  influential  clergy  flocked  to  Paris.  The  Admiral 
Coligni,  one  of  the  most  illustrious  of  men  in  all  excellences 
of  character,  was  received  as  the  special  guest  of  the  king  and 
his  mother.  He  was  unquestionably  the  most  influential  man 
in  the  Protestant  party  in  France.  His  death  would  prove 
an  irreparable  blow  to  the  cause  of  reform.  Some  of  his 
friends  urged  him  not  to  place  himself  in  the  power  of  so 
treacherous  a  woman  as  Catharine  de  Medici. 

"  I  confide,"  said  the  nobl«  '^dmiral,  "  in  the  sacred  word 
of  his  Majesty." 

The  admiral,  as  he  entered  the  paiace,  was  greeted  with 
lavish  caresses  by  both  mother  and  son.  The  king  threw 
'lis  arms  around  the  admiral's  neck,  and  hugged  him  in  an 
Isc?iriot  embrace,  saying,  "This  is  the  happiest  day  of  my 
life." 

At  length,  the  nuptial  morn  arrived.  It  was  the  15th  of 
August,  1572.  The  unimpassioned  bridegroom  led  his  scorn- 
ful bride  to  the  Church  of  Notre  Dame.  Before  the  mas- 
sive portals  of  this  renowned  cathedral,  and  beneath  the 
shadow  of  its  venerable  towers,  a  magnificent  platform  had 
been  reared,  canopied  with  gorgeous  tapestry.  Hundreds  of 
thousands  thronged  the  surrounding  amphitheatre,  swarming 
at  the  windows,  and  crowding  the  balconies  and  the  house- 
tops. 

The  gentle  breoze,  breathing  over  the  multitude,  was  laden 
with  the  perfume  of  flowers.  Banners,  pennants,  and  ribbons, 
of  every  varied  hue,  waved  in  the  air,  or  hung  in  gay  festoon, 
from  window  to  window^  and  from  roof  to  roof. 

Upon  that  conspicuous  platform  Henry  received  the  hajiu 
of  tha  haughty  princess,  and  the  nuptial  oath  was  adminis- 
tered. Marguerite  however,  even  In  that  hour  aiid  iiL  the 
presence  of  all  those  spectacors,  gave  a  ludicrous  sxhibition  of 
her  girlish  petulance  and  her  ungcvcmed  wilfulness.  When, 
hi  ^he  progress  of  Lhe  ceraLuony,  she  w^s  a&k«d  if  she  will- 


THE  MASSACRE  OF  ST.   BARTHOLOMEW.  465 

ingly  received  Henry  of  Navarre  for  her  husband,  a  suddan 
fireak  of  perversion  seized  her.  She  pouted,  coquettishly  tossed 
her  proud  little  head,  and  wac  silent.  The  question  was  re- 
peated. The  spirit  of  Marguerita  wab  now  up,  and  all  the 
powers  of  Europe  could  not  give  pliancy  to  the  shrew. 

The  question  was  again  repeated.  She  fixed  her  eyes  defi- 
antly upon  the  officiating  bishop,  and,  refusing  by  word  or  ges- 
ture to  give  the  slightest  assent,  remained  as  immovable  as 
a  statue.  Embarrassment  and  delay  ensued.  There  was  a 
pause  in  the  ceremony ;  and  every  eye  was  fixed,  in  wonder  as 
to  what  would  be  the  result. 

Suddenly  the  king,  Marguorite's  brother,  who  with  his.  court 
was  conspicuously  seated  upon  the  platform,  fully  consciou: 
of  his  sister's  indomitabb  opi^-it,  quietly  walked  up  to  the  tei- 
magant  a  J  bay,  and  placing  one  hand  upon  her  bosom,  and  thj 
other  upon  the  back  of  her  head,  compelled  an  involuntary  ncd. 
The  bishop  smiled  and  bowed,  and  acting  upon  the  politi:- 
principle,  that  small  favors  are  gratefully  received,  proceede-i 
with  the  ceremony.  Such  were  the  vows  with  which  Henry 
of  Navarre  and  Marguerite  of  France  were  united.  Such  in 
too  often  love  in  the  palace. 

We  must  now  pass  by  the  feetival-days  which  ensued,  and 
turn  from  the  nuptials  to  the  massacre.  Admiral  Coligni, 
anxious  to  return  home,  called  at  the  Louvre  to  tnke  leave  of 
the  king.  As  he  was  passing  through  the  streets  to  the  lodg- 
ings which  had  been  provided  for  him,  two  bullets  from  the 
pistol  of  an  assassin  pierced  his  body.  His  friends  bore  him 
bleeding  to  his  apartment.  Though  the  king  and  queen 
feigned  great  indignation,  the  evidence  was  conclusive  that 
they  had  instigated  the  crime.  The  Protestants  were  thundsr- 
Btruck.  Ajj  their  leaders  had  been  lured  to  Paris  ;  and  thei-  • 
they  were,  —  caught  in  a  trap,  unarmed,  separated  from  thei/ 
followers,  and  help'ess.  Henry  of  Navarre  immediately  :).««■ 
tened  to  the  bedside  of  his  revered  and  wounded  frieai. 
While  he  was  sitting  there,  Catharine  and  Charles  were  delib 
•rating  whether  Henry  himself  should  be  included  in  tj? 
general  massacre.     After  much  debate,  it  was  decided  to  spar 


466  BISTORT  OF  CRRISTIANITY. 

him,  as  he  would  be  powerless  after  aU  the  Protestants  were 
cold  in  death. 

The  Duke  of  Guise  'ed  the  raovement  of  the  Catholics. 
Troops  had  been  stationed  at  all  the  important  positions  in 
Paris,  and  the  Catholic  population  had  been  secretly  armed. 
The  Catholics  were  enjoined  to  wear  a  white  cross  upon  the 
hat,  that  they  might  be  distinguished.  The  conspiracy  ex- 
tended throughout  the  whole  of  France,  and  the  storm  of 
death  was  to  burst  at  the  same  moment  upon  the  unsuspect- 
ing victims  in  every  city  and  village  of  the  kingdom. 

While  Catharine  and  Charles  were  arranging  tlie  details  for 
the  massacre,  they  employed  £,11  their  arts  of  duplicity  to  dis- 
arm ."Qspicion.  The  very  evening  of  the  fatal  night,  the  king 
invited  many  of  the  most  illustrious  of  his  victims  to  a  sump- 
tuous entertainment  at  the  Louvre.  In  a  fine  glow  of  spirits 
he  detained  them  until  a  late  hour  with  his  pleasantries,  and 
induced  several  to  remaii'.  in  the  palace  to  sleep,  that  they 
might  be  slain  beneath  his  own  roof. 

The  conspiracy  had  been  kept  a  profound  secret  from  Mar- 
guerite, lest  she  should  betray  it  to  her  husband.  In  the 
mean  time,  aided  by  the  gloom  of  a  starless  night,  preparations 
were  making  in  every  street  of  Paris  for  the  enormous  perpe- 
tration. Soldiers  were  assembling  at  their  appointed  rendez- 
vouses. Guards  were  stationed  to  cut  off  flight.  Fanatic  men, 
armed  with  sabres  and  muskets  which  gleamed  in  the  lamp- 
light, began  to  emerge  through  the  darkness,  and  to  gathfxr  in 
motley  assemblage.  Many  houses  were  illuminated,  that,  by 
the  blaze  from  the  windows,  the  bullet  might  be  thrown  with 
precision,  and  the  lagger  mig'lit  strike  an  unerring  blov/. 

Catharine  and  her  son  Charles  were  now  in  one  of  the 
apartments  of  the  Louvre,  waiting  for  the  clock  to  strike  the 
hour  of  two,  when  the  signal  was  to  be  given.  Catharine, 
inexorable  in  crime,  was  very  apprchei  sivs  that  her  son  might 
:relent.  Petulant  and  self-willed,  he  v^as  liable  to  paroxysms 
(sf  stubbornness,  when  he  spurned  his  mother's  counsels. 

V/eak  as  well  as  depraved,  the  w  -etclied  kinr  was  feverishly 
excited.     He  paced  the  room  nervously,  peering  ouv  at  th* 


TEE  MASSACRE  OF  ST.   BARTHOLOMEW.  457 

window,  looking  at  his  watch,  wishiiig  yet  dreading  to  hav8 
the  appointed  hour  arrive.  His  mother,  mizi  casing  these  indi- 
cations of  a  faltering  spirit,  ur^ed  hiic  to  order  the  alarm- 
bell  immediately  to  be  struck,  \chich  was  to  ^3  ohe  signal  for 
the  massacre  to  commence.  Charles  hesii^ated,  and  a  cold 
sweat  oozed  from  his  brow. 

"  Are  you  a  coward  ? "  tauntingly  inquired  the  llend-lik© 
mother. 

This  is  a  charge  which  no  coward  can  stand.  It  almost 
always  nerves  the  poltroon  to  action.  Tae  young  king  ner- 
vously exclaimed,  "  Well,  then,  let  it  besjin  ! "  There  were  in 
the  room  at  the  time  only  Catharine,  Charles,  and  his  brother, 
the  Duke  of  Anjou.  It  was  two  hours  after  midnight. 
There  was  a  moment  of  dreadful  suspense  and  of  perfect 
silence.  All  three  stood  at  the  window,  in  the  Palace  of  the 
Louvre,  looking  out  into  the  rayless  night. 

Suddenly  through  the  still  air  the  ponderous  tones  of  the 
alarm-bell  fell  upon  the  ear,  and  rolled  the  kneil  of  death  over 
the  city.  The  vibration  awakened  the  demon  in  ten  thousand 
hearts.  It  was  the  morning  of  the  sabbath,  Aug.  24, 1572,  — 
the  anniversary  of  the  festival  of  St.  Bartholomew. 

The  first  stroke  of  the  bell  had  not  ceased  to  vibrate  upon 
the  ear  when  the  uproar  of  the  carnage  commenced.  The 
sound,  which  seemed  to  rouse  Catharine  to  frenzy,  almost  froze 
the  blood  of  the  young  monarch.  Trembling  in  every  nerve, 
he  shouted  for  the  massacre  to  be  stopped. 

It  was  too  late :  the  train  was  fired.  Beacon-fires  and 
alarm-bells  sent  the  signal  with  the  rapidity  of  light  and  of 
sound  through  entire  France.  The  awful  roar  of  human  pas- 
sion, the  crackling  of  musketry,  the  shrieks  of  the  wounded 
and  ')f  the  dying,  blended  in  appalling  tumult  throughout  the 
^fhok  metropolis.  Old  men,  terrified  maidens,  helpless  iufants, 
venerable  matrons,  were  alike  smitten  down  mercilessly  to 
the  fanatic  cry  of  "  Vive  Dieu  et  le  Roi !  "  —  "  Live  God  and 
the  King  !  " 

The  Admiral  Coligni,  who  h*?/l  been  shot  and  dei?perately 
wounded  the  day  before,  faint  and  dying,  was  lying  upo:^  bis 


458  HISTOItr  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

bed,  snrroundsd  hj  a  few  faithful  friends,  as  the  demoniac 
clamor  rolled  in  upon  their  ears.  The  Duke  of  Guise,  a 
l^^iatic  Papist,  with  three  hundred  followers,  hastened  to  the 
lod.p'iu^s  of  the  admiral,  stabbed  the  sentinels,  and  burst 
through  the  gataii.  A  wounded  servant  rushed  to  the  chamber 
of  the  admiral,  exclaiming,  — 

"The  house  is  f^orced;  and  there  are  no  means  of  resist- 
ing ! " 

"  I  have  long,"  said  the  heroic  Christian  admiral,  "  prepared 
myself  to  die.  Save  yourselves  if  you  can :  you  cannot 
defend  me.     I  commend  my  soul  to  God." 

The  murderers  were  now  rushing  up  the  stairs.  They 
pursued,  shot,  stabbed,  and  cut  down  the  flying  friends  of 
Coligni.  The  admiral,  thus  for  a  moment  left  alone,  rose  from 
his  bed,  and,  being  unable  to  stand,  leaned  against  the  wall, 
and,  in  fervent  prayer,  surrendered  himself  to  the  will  of  his 
Maker.  The  u-ssassins  burst  into  the  room.  They  saw  a 
venerable  man  in  his  night-robe,  with  bandaged  wounds,  en- 
gaged in  his  devotions. 

"  Art  thou  the  admiral  ?  "  demanded  one  with  brandished 
Bword. 

"  I  am,"  replied  Coligni ;  "  and  thou,  young  man,  shouldst 
respect  my  gray  hairs.  Nevertheless,  thou  canst  abridge  my 
life  but  a  little." 

The  wretch  plunged  his  sword  into  the  bosom  of  Coligni, 
and  then,  withdrawing  it  dripping  with  blood,  cut  him  down. 
The  admiral  fell,  calmly  saying,  — 

"  If  I  could  but  die  by  the  hand  of  a  gentleman,  instewl 
of  by  the  hands  of  such  a  knave  as  this  ! " 

The  rest  of  the  assassins  immediately  feU  upon  him,  each 
emulous  to  bury  his  dagger  in  the  bosom  of  his  victim.  The 
Duke  of  Guise,  ashamed  to  encounter  the  eye  of  the  noble 
Coligni,  whom  he  had  often  met  in  friendly  intercourse,  re- 
mained impatiently  in  the  courtyard  below. 

"  Breme ! "  he  shouted  to  one  of  his  followers,  looking  up  to 
the  window,  "have  you  done  it?" 

"  Yes,"  Breme  replied  :  "  he  is  done  fc-r." 


"T'HE    MURDERERS   WERE   NOW  RUSHING  UP   THE   STAIRS." 


THE  MASSACRE  OF  ST.   BARTHOLOMEW  459 

"  Let  us  see,  though,"  replied  the  duke  :  "  throw  him  out 
pf  the  window  ! " 

The  mangled  corpse  fell  heavily  upon  the  paying-stones. 
The  duke  wiped  the  blood  from  the  lifeless  face,  and,  carefully 
scrutinzing  the  features,  said,  "  Yes  :  I  recognize  the  man." 
Then,  giving  the  pallid  face  a  kick,  he  exclaimed,  "  Courage, 
comrades !  we  have  happily  begun.  Let  us  now  go  fci 
others." 

The  tiger,  having  once  lapped  his  tongue  in  blood,  eems 
to  be  imbued  with  a  new  spirit  of  ferocity.  There  is  iu  man 
a  similar  temper :  the  frenzied  multitude  became  drunk  with 
blood.  The  houses  of  the  Protestants  were  marked.  The 
assassins  burst  open  the  doors,  and  rushed  through  all  apart- 
ments, murdering  indiscriminately  young  and  old,  —  men, 
vtomen,  and  children.  The  gory  bodies  were  thrown  from  the 
windows,  and  the  pavements  were  clotted  with  biood. 

Charles  soon  recovered  from  his  momentary  wavering,  and, 
conscious  that  it  was  too  late  to  draw  back,  with  fiend-hke 
eagerness  engaged  himself  in  the  work  of  death.  Fury  seized 
him  :  his  cheeks  were  flushed,  his  lips  compressed,  and  his, 
eyes  glared  with  frenzy.  Bending  eagerly  from  his  window 
he  shouted  words  of  encouragement  to  the  assassins.  Grasp- 
ing a  gun,  he  watched  like  a  sportsman  for  his  prey ;  and 
when  he  saw  an  unfortunate  Protestant,  wounded  and  bleed- 
ing, flying  from  his  pursuers,  he  would  take  deliberate  aim 
from  the  window  of  his  palace,  and  shout  with  exultation  as 
he  -saw  him  fall  pierced  by  his  bullet. 

A  crowd  of  fugitives  rushed  into  the  courtyard  of  the 
Louvre  to  throw  themselves  upon  the  protection  of  the  king. 
Charles  sent  his  own  body-guard  into  the  yard  with  guns  and 
daggers  to  butcher  them  all. 

Just  before  the  carnage  commenced.  Marguerite,  oppressed 
with  fears  of  she  knew  not  what,  retired  to  her  chamber.  She 
had  hardly  closed  her  eyes  when  the  outcry  of  the  pursuers 
and  the  pursued  filled  the  palace.  She  sprang  up  in  her  bed^ 
and  heard  some  one  struggling  at  the  door,  and  shriekiD;!; 
"  Navarre  I  Navarre  1  " 


460  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

The  door  was  burst  open ;  and  one  of  her  husband's  attend- 
ants rushed  in,  covered  with  wounds  and  blood,  and  pursued 
by  four  soldiers  of  her  brother's  guard.  The  captain  of  the 
guard  at  that  moment  entered  the  room,  pursuing  his  victim. 

Marguerite,  almost  insane  with  terror,  fled  to  the  chamber 
of  her  sister.  The  palace  was  filled  with  shouts  and  shrieks 
and  uproar.  As  she  was  rushing  through  the  hall,  she 
encountered  another  Protestant  gentleman  flying  before  the 
cri'  .8  .  e  '  S"7?ord  of  his  pursuers  :  he  was  covered  with  blood 
fiowi-i^  fiom  many  ghastly  gashes.  Just  as  he  reached  the 
young  Qu^en  of  Navarre,  his  pursuer  plunged  a  sword  through 
his  body  ;  and  he  fell  dead  at  her  feet. 

No  tongae  can  tell  the  horrors  of  that  night:  it  would 
Kequire  vol  jiaes  to  detail  its  scenes.  While  the  carnage  was  in 
pT0gi33S,  a  boc^y  of  soldiers  entered  the  chamber  of  Henry  of 
Navarre,  and  conveyed  him  to  the  presence  of  the  king.  The 
imbecile  monarch,  with  blasphemous  oaths  and  a  countenance 
inflamed  with  fury,  ordered  him  to  abandon  Protestantism,  or 
p;:epar3  to  die.  Henry,  to  save  his  life,  ingloriously  yielded, 
ani,  by  similar  compulsion,  was  induced  to  send  an  edict  to  his 
own  dominions,  prohibiting  the  exercise  of  any  religion  but 
that  of  Rome. 

Wlien  the  gloom  of  night  had  passed,  and  the  sabbath  sun 
dawned  upon  Paris,  a  spectacle  was  witnessed  such  as  even 
that  blood-renowned  metropolis  has  seldom  presented.  The 
city  still  resounded  with  tumult;  the  pavements  were  gory, 
and  covered  with  the  dead ;  men,  women,  and  children  were 
still  flying  in  every  direction,  wounded  and  bleeding,  pursued 
by  merciless  assassins,  riotous  with  demoniac  laughter,  and 
drunk  with  blood. 

The  report  of  guns  and  pistols,  and  of  continued  volleys  of 
muskstrj,  from  all  parts  of  the  city,  proved  the  u  ,\iversality  of 
the  ma.'^sacre.  Miserable  wretches,  smeared  wit'  bl>;a,  swag- 
gered along  with  ribald  jests  and  fiend-like  bowlings,  hunting 
'^'jr  the  Protestants  ;  corpses,  torn  and  ^  o'-j,  strewed  the  streets, 
2.nd  dissevered  heads  were  spumed  lifce  footballs  along  the 
oavements ;  priests  in  sacerdotal  robes,  and  with  elevated  cru- 


THE  MASSACRE  OF  ST.   BARTHOLOMEW.  461 

ciflxes,  urged  their  emissaries  not  to  grow  weary  in  tie  work 
of  exterminating  God's  enemies ;  the  most  distinpuished  •  obles 
of  the  court  and  of  the  camp  rode  through  the  streets  with 
gorgeous  retinue,  encouraging  the  massacre. 

"  Let  not  one  single  Protestant  be  spared,"  the  king  pro 
claimed,  "  to  reproach  me  hereafter  with  this  deed." 

Charles,  with  his  mother  and  the  high-born  profligate  ladie» 
who  disgraced  the  court,  emerged  in  the  mo_ning  light  in  splen 
did  array  into  the  reeking  streets.  Many  of  the  women  con- 
templated with  merriment  the  dead  bodies  piled  up  before  the 
Louvre.  One  of  the  ladies,  however,  appalled  by  the  spectacle, 
wished  to  retire,  alleging  that  the  bodies  already  emitted  an 
offensive  odor.     Charles  brutally  replied,  — 

"  The  smell  of  a  dead  enemy  is  always  pleasant ! " 

The  massacre  was  continued  in  the  city  and  throughout  the 
kii.gdom  fcr  a  week.  On  Thursday,  after  four  days  spent  in 
hunting  out  the  fugitives  from  all  their  hiding-places,  the 
Catholic  clergy  paraded  the  streets  of  Paris  in  a  triumphal 
procession,  and  with  jubilant  praye/s  and  hymns  gave  thanks 
to  God  for  their  victory.  The  Catholic  pulpits  reeounded  with 
eiultant  harangues.  A  medal  was  struck  off  in  honor  of  the 
event,  with  the  inscription,  "La  Piet^  a  reveille  la  Jusfcice''  — 
"Religion  has  awakened  Justice." 

In  some  of  the  distant  provinces  in  Prance,  the  Protestants 
were  in  the  majority;  and  the  Catholics  did  not  venture  to 
attack  them.  In  some  others  they  wcro  s'-  few  that  they  wera 
not  feared,  and  ^7ere  therefore  spared.  In  the  sparsely-settled 
rural  districts,  the  Catholic  ptas-mts,  kind-hearted  and  virtuous, 
refused  to  imbinie  their  hands  in  the  flood  of  their  neigh bo<?8. 
In  these  ways,  several  thousand  Protestants  escaped. 

But  in  nearly  all  the  cities  and  populous  towns  the  slaughfcpi 
was  indiscriminate  and  universal.  The  number  who  perished 
in  the  awful  ma^<sacre  of  St.  Bartholomew  is  estimated  at  fro  i 
eighty  to  a  hundred  thousand. 

But  there  were  some  noble  Catholics,  who,  refusing  to  su*  ■ 
render  conscience  to  this  iniquitous  order  of  the  king,  laid 
down  their  own  lives  in  adhering  to  the  principle,  tha^-  tiie| 


462  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

would  "  obey  God  rather  tlian  man "  when  God's  law  and 
man's  law  came  into  antagonism. 

The  governor  of  Auvergne,  an  heroic  and  a  noble  man, 
replied  in  the  following  terms  to  the  king's  secret  missiv« 
commanding  the  massacre  :  — 

"  Sire,  I  have  received  an  order,  under  your  Majesty's  seal, 
to  put  all  the  Protestant3  of  this  province  to  death ;  and,  if 
(which  God  forbid !)  the  order  be  genuine,  I  still  respect  youi 
Majesty  too  much  to  obey  you." 

The  infamous  decree  of  ths  king  was  sent  to  the  Viscount 
Orthez,  commandant  at  Bayonne.  The  folk  wing  was  his  in- 
trepid reply :  — 

"  Sire,  I  have  communicated  the  commands  of  your  Maj  isty 
to  the  inhabitants  of  the  town,  and  to  the  soldiers  of  the  garri- 
son ;  and  I  have  found  good  citizens  and  brave  soldiers,  but  not 
one  executioner.  On  which  account,  both  they  and  I  humbly 
beseech  your  Majesty  to  employ  our  arms  »nd  our  lives  in 
enterprises  in  which  we  can  conscientiously  engage.  However 
perilous  they  may  be,  we  will  willingly  shed  therein  the  last 
drop  of  our  blood." 

Both  of  these  men  of  intrepid  virtue  soon  after  suddenly 
and  mysteriously  died.  Few  entertained  a  doubt  that  poison 
had  been  administered  by  the  order  of  Charles. 

From  these  revolting  scenes  of  blood  ia'^  us  briefly  glance 
?t  the  impression  which  tht.  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew 
produced  upon  Europe. 

The  pope  received  the  tidings  with  exultation,  and  ordered 
the  most  imposing  religious  ceremonies  in  Roma  in  gratitude 
for  the  achievement.  The  Papal  courts  of  Spai  .  and  of  the 
Netherlands  sent  thanks  to  Charles  and  Catharine  for  having 
tlius  effectually  purged  France  of  heresy. 

But  Protestant  Europe  was  stricken  with  inditjnation.  As 
fugitives  from  France,  emaciate,  pale,  and  woe-stricken,  recited, 
in  Etgland,  Switzerland,  and  Germany,  tho  story  of  the  mas- 
Bacre.  the  hearts  of  their  auditors  were  frozen  with  ho  Tor. 

In  Geneva,  a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer  was  instituted,  which 
Is  observed  to  the  present  day.       In  Scotland,  every  church 


THE  MASSACRE  OF  ST.  BARTHOLOMEW.  463 

resounded  with  the  thrilling  tale.  John  Knox  proclaimed, 
in  language  of  prophetic  nerve, — 

"Sentence  has  gone  forth  against  that  murderer,  the  King 
of  France;  and  the  vengeance  of  God  Avill  never  be  withdrawn 
from  his  house.   His  name  shall  be  in  everlasting  execration." 

The  French  court,  alarmed  by  the  foreign  indignation  it 
had  aroused,  sent  an  ambassador  to  the  court  of  Queen 
Elizabeth  with  a  poor  apolog\'  for  the  crime.  The  ambassa- 
dor was  received  by  England's  queen  with  appalling  coldness 
and  gloom.  Arrangements  were  studiousl}'  made  to  invest 
the  occasion  with  solemnity.  The  court  was  shrouded  in 
mourning,  and  all  the  lords  and  ladies  appeared  in  sable 
Aveeds.  A  stern  and  sombre  sadness  was  upon  ever}'  coun- 
tenance. The  ambassador,  overwhelmed  b}'  this  reception, 
was  overheard  to  exclaim  to  himself, — 

"I  am  ashamed  to  acknowledge  myself  a  Frenchman !" 

He  entered,  however,  the  presence  of  the  queen  ;  passed 
through  the  long  line  of  silent  courtiers,  who  refused  to  salute 
him  even  with  a  look  ;  stammered  out  his  miserable  apology, 
and,  receiving  no  response,  retired  covered  with  confusion. 

It  has  been  said,  "The  blood  of  the  martyrs  is  the  seed  of 
the  Church."  There  are  apparent  exceptions  to  this  rule. 
Protestantism  in  France  has  never  recovered  from  this  blow. 
But  for  this  massacre,  one-half  of  the  nobles  of  France  would 
have  continued  Protestant.  The  reformers  would  soon  have 
constituted  so  large  a  portion  of  the  population,  that  mutual 
toleration  would  have  been  necessary-.  Intelligence  would 
have  been  diffused  ;  religion  would  have  been  respected  ;  and 
in  all  probability,  the  horrors  of  the  French  Revolution 
would  have  been  averted. 

God  is  an  avenger.  In  the  mysterious  government  which 
he  wields, — mysterious  only  to  our  feeble  vision, — "he  visits 
the  iniquities  of  the  fathers  upon  the  children  even  unto  the 
third  and  fourth  generation." 

As  we  see  the  priests  of  Paris  and  of  France,  during  the 
awful  tragedy  of  the  Revolution,  massacred  in  the  prisons, 
shot  in  the  streets,  hung  upon  the  lamp-posts,  and  driven  in 


464  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

starvation  and  woe  from  the  kingdom,  we  cannot  but  remem- 
ber the  day  of  St.  Bartholomew.  The  24th  of  August,  1572, 
and  the  2d  of  September,  1792,  though  far  apart  in  the  rec- 
ords of  time,  are  consecutive  days  in  the  government  of  God. 

Henry  of  Navarre,  by  stratagem,  soon  escaped  from  Paris, 
renounced  the  Catholicism  which  he  had  accepted  from  com- 
pulsion, and  was  accepted  as  the  military  leader  of  the  Protes- 
tant party  throughout  Europe.  The  surviving  Protestants 
rallied  in  self-defence,  and  implored  aid  from  all  uhe  courts 
which  had  embraced  the  principles  of  the  Reformation.  Eng- 
land and  Germany  sent  troops  vO  their  aid.  Catholic  Spain, 
the  Netherlands,  and  Italy  sent  armies  to  assist  the  Papists. 
Again  France  was  deluged  \v.  the  woes  of  civil  war,  and  years 
of  unutterable  misery  darkened  the  realm. 

Charles  IX.,  as  weak  as  he  was  depraved,  became  silent, 
morose,  and  gloomy.  Secluding  himself  from  all  society,  month 
after  month  he  was  gnawed  by  the  scorpion  fangs  of  remorse. 
A  bloody  sweat,  ozing  from  every  pore,  crimsoned  his  bed- 
clothes. His  aspect  of  misery  drove  all  companionship  from 
his  chamber.     He  groaned  and  wept,  exclaiming  incessantly,  — 

"  Oh,  what  blood  I  oh,  what  murders !  Alas  !  why  did  I 
follow  such  evil  counsels  ?  " 

He  saw  continually  the  spectres  of  the  slain  with  g'  astly 
wounds  stalking  about  his  bed  ;  and  demons,  hideous  and  tl  r.?at- 
ening,  waited  to  grasp  his  soul.  As  the  cathedral  bell  was 
tolling  the  hour  of  midnight  on  the  30th  of  May,  1574,  his  nurse 
heard  him  convulsively  weeping.  Gently  she  drew  aside  the 
bed-curtains.  The  dying  monarch  turned  his  dim  and  despair- 
ing eye  upon  her,  and  exclaimed,  — 

"  0  my  nurse,  my  nurse  !  what  blood  have  I  shed !  what  mur- 
ders have  I  committed  !     Great  God,  pardon  me,  pardon  me  I " 

A  convulsive  shuddering  for  a  moment  agitated  his  frame  : 
bis  head  fell  upon  his  pillow,  and  the  wretched  man  was  dea«l. 
l?!e  was  then  but  twenty-four  years  of  age.  He  express'id 
aatisfaction  that  he  left  no  heir  to  live  and  suffer  in  a  world  so 
full  of  misery. 

The  order  of  knighthood  deserves  recori,  as  one  of  the  out- 
• 


THE  MASSACRE  OF  ST.  BARTHOLOMEW.  465 

growths  of  Christianity.  This  institution,  originating  in  the 
eleventh  centur}-,  was  continued  through  several  hundred 
years  as  one  of  the  most  potent  of  earthly  influences.  Guizot, 
speaking  of  its  origin,  says, — 

"  It  was  at  this  period  when  in  the  laic  world  was  created 
and  developed  the  most  splendid  fact  of  the  middle  ages, — 
knighthood,  that  noble  soaring  of  imaginations  and  souls 
towards  the  ideal  of  Christian  virtue  and  soldierly  honor.  It 
is  impossible  to  trace  in  detail  the  origin  and  history  of  that 
grand  fact,  which  was  so  prominent  in  the  days  to  which  it 
belonged,  and  which  is  so  prominent  still  in  the  memories  of 
men  ;  but  a  clear  notion  ought  to  be  obtained  of  its  moral 
character,  and  of  its  practical  worth."' 

The  young  candidate  for  knighthood  was  first  placed  in  a 
bath, — the  symbol  of  moral  and  material  purification.  After 
having  undergone  a  very  thorough  ablution,  he  was  dressed 
in  a  white  tunic,  a  red  robe,  and  a  close-fitting  black  coat. 
The  tunic  was  the  emblem  of  purity  ;  the  red  robe,  of  the  blood 
he  was  bound  to  shed  in  the  service  of  his  order  ;  and  the 
black  coat  was  a  reminder  of  death,  to  which  he,  as  well  as 
all  others,  was  doomed.  Thus  purified  and.  clothed,  the 
candidate  underwent  a  rigid  fast  for  twenty-four  hours.  He 
then,  it  being  evening,  entered  a  church,  usually  accompanied 
by  a  clergyman,  and  passed  the  whole  night  in  prayer. 

The  next  morning,  after  a  full  confession  of  his  sins,  he 
received  from  the  father-confessor  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
Supper.  A  sermon  was  then  preached  to  him  directly,  usually 
in  the  presence  of  a  large  assembly,  enforcing  the  duties  of 
the  new  life  of  knighthood  upon  which  he  was  about  to  enter. 
The  candidate  then  approached  the  altar  with  a  sword  sus- 
pended at  his  side.  The  officiating  priest  took  the  sword, 
implcred  God's  l)lessing  upon  it,  and  returned  it  to  the  young 
man.  The  young  knight  then  kneeled  before  his  sovereign, 
or  the  lord  of  high  degree,  who  was  to  initiate  him  into  the 
honors  of  knighthood  ;  and  the  following  questions  were 
proposed  to  him  : — 

»  The  History  of  France,  M.  Guizot,  vol.  1,  p.  530. 
30 


466  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

"  Why  do  you  purpose  to  become  a  knight?  If  it  be  that 
you  may  become  rich,  or  to  take  your  ease,  or  to  acquire 
honor,  without  peforming  deeds  worthy  of  renown,  you  are 
unworthy  of  the  sacred  order." 

The  young  man  replies,  "I  desire  to  acquit  myself  honor- 
ably of  all  the  noble  deeds  of  knighthood,  without  regard 
to  wealth  or  ease." 

A  numberof  beautiful  ladies  then  approached  the  candidate  : 
and  one  buckled  upon  his  feet  the  spurs  ;  another  girded 
around  his  chest  the  coat  of  mail ;  a  third  placed  upon  his 
breast  the  cuirass  ;  a  fourth  brought  the. highly-polished  and 
glittering  helmet ;  while  a  fifth  presented  him  the  armlets  and 
gauntlets.  Thus  clothed  by  the  fair  hands  of  ladies,  he  again 
kneeled  at  the  altar  ;  and  his  sovereign,  or  the  officiating  lord, 
supported  by  a  splendid  retinue  of  veteran  knights,  approached 
him,  and,  giving  him  three  slight  blows  with  the  flat  of  the 
sword,  said,  "In  the  name  of  God,  St.  Michael,  and  St. 
George,  I  make  thee  knight.     Be  valiant,  bold,  and  true." 

The  young  man,  thus  arrayed  as  a  knight,  went  from  the 
church,  and  mounted  a  magnificent  horse  held  by  a  groom.' 
Brandishing  both  sword  and  lance,  he  displayed  to  the 
assembled  multitude  the  wonderful  feats  of  horsemanship  to 
which  he  had  been  trained. 

Such  was,  in  brief,  the  ceremony  in  the  admission  of  knights. 
It  will  be  seen  that  the  religious  element  entered  largely  into 
its  spirit.  Indeed,  the  knight  took  a  solemn  oath  to  serve 
God  religiously,  and  to  die  a  thousand  deaths  rather  thau  ever 
renounce  Christianity.  A  poet  of  the  fourteenth  century,  in 
verses  upon  the  character  and  duties  of  knighthood,  in  the 
following  lines  shows  us  what  was  then  understood  to  be  the 
true  elevation  of  knighthood  : — 

"  Amend  your  lives,  ye  who  would  fain 
The  order  of  the  knights  attain; 
DevouUy  watch,  devoutly  pray; 
From  pride  and  sin,  oh  I  turn  away; 
Be  good  and  true ;  take  nought  by  might; 
Be  bolJ,  and  guard  the  people's  right: 
This  is  the  rule  for  the  gallant  knight." 


TEE  MASSACRE  OF  ST.  BARTHOLOMEW.  467 

Tliis  institution,  which  manifestly  sprang  from  Christianity, 
exerted  a  powerful  influence,  amid  the  anarchy  and  barbarism 
of  the  middle  ages,  in  rectifying  disorders,  and  in  protecting 
the  weak  against  the  strong. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


THE   CHURCH    n^   MODERN   TIMES. 


Oharactf^r  of  Henry  III. —Assassination  of  the  Duke  of  Guise.  — Cruel  Edioti 
of  Louis  XIV.  —  Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes.  —  Sut.'eriD»e  of  Protes- 
tants.—Important  Question.- Thomas  Chalmers.  —  Experiment  tt  St.  John. 
—  His  Lftbors  and  Death. —Jonathan  Edwards.  —  His  B^solutioae,  —  flSs 
Marriage.  —  His  Trials.  — His  De^ith.  —  John  Wesley.  — His  Convereiti^.- 
George  Whltefisld.  —  First  Met'.olist  Confe-ejce.- Death  of  Wesley.  —  Rob- 
ert Hall.  — His  Character  and  Deat? ..  — William  Paley.  — His  Wcrka  and 
Death.  — The  Sabbath.  —  Power  of  tXe  Goipel.  — Socrates.  — Sceae  on  tM 
Prairie.  —  The  Bible. 


HE  sever.teontb  ce^.cury  opened  with  almost 
universal  ccrrupticn,  outside  of  the  limited  cir- 
cle of  the  true  disci?:les  of  Jesus  Christ.  The 
moral  and  political  ^orld  presented  the  aspect 
of  a  raging  sea  darkened  by  storm-clouds,  with 
the  waves  dashing  upon  every  shore.  The 
utmost  profligacy  of  Planners  prevailed  generally 
in  courts ;  while  the  masses  of  the  people  were  ignorant  and 
degraded.  The  Papal  Church,  which  had  degenerated  iif-to  a 
towering  organization  o"  worldly  ambition,  had  beoome  cor- 
rupt almost  beyond  the  power  of  the  pen  to  describe. 

Henry  III.  had  succeeded  his  miserable  brother,  Chjirlea 
IX.,  upon  the  throne ,  of  France.  While  Duke  of  Anjou,  he 
had  distinguished  himself  by  his  i-:alignant  hostility  to  the 
Protestants,  or  Huguenots  R8  tl.cy  were  there  called.  He 
was  as  weak  as  he  was  wicked,  and  never  hesitated  to  employ 
the  dagger  of  the  assassin  to  rid  himself  of  those  he  fearsd. 

468 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  469 

Impelled  by  his  infamous  mother,  Catharine  de  Medici,  he  en- 
deavored to  wage  exterminating  war  against  the  Protestants 
who  had  survived  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew.  But 
the}',  led  b}'  Henry  of  Navarre, — subsequently  Henry  IV. 
of  France, — and  aided  b}'  other  Protestant  powers,  made  a 
vigorous  defence.  AVretched  France  was  thus  devastated  by 
the  most  cruel  civil  war. 

Fearing  the  rising  power  of  the  Guises,  who  were  the  de- 
voted partisans  of  the  Papac}-,  Henry  secured  the  assassina- 
tion of  the  Duke  of  Guise,  and  of  his  brother  the  cardinal. 
This  exasperated  the  pope.  Ilenr^^  was  stabbed  by  a  fanatic 
monk.  The  Pope,  Sixtus  V.,  in  full  consistory,  applauded  the 
deed.  He  apparently  wished  to  encourage  the  assassination 
of  all  sovereigns  who  were  not  obsequiously  obedient  to  the 
Papacy.  The  regicide  he  pronounced,  in  declamator}-  phrase, 
"to  be  comparable,  as  regards  the  salvation  of  the  world,  to 
the  incarnation  and  the  resurrection,  and  that  the  courage  of 
the  youthful  assassin  surpassed  that  of  Eleazar  and  Judith." 

The  Catholic  historian,  Chateaubriand,  declares  that  "it 
was  of  importance  to  the  pope  to  encourage  fanatics  who 
were  ready  to  murder  kings  in  the  name  of  the  Papal  power." 
The  annalist  Brantome  says  that  he  saw  a  bull  of  the  pope 
ordering  the  assassination  of  Elizabeth,  the  Protestant  queen 
of  England. 

Upon  the  accession  to  the-throne  of  France  of  Henry  IV., 
— who,  with  his  mother,  had  been  at  the  head  of  the  Protest- 
ant armies  of  Europe, — Henry,  who  had  been  politically  a 
Protestant,  not  spiritualh'  a  disciple  of  Jesus,  found  it  ex- 
pedient to  adopt  the  Catholic  faith  saying  with  nonchalance, 
"A  crown  is  surel}'  worth  a  mass,"  He,  however,  continued 
to  befriend  the  Protestants.  In  the  year  1598  he  issued  a 
famous  decree,  called  the  Edict  of  Nantes,  which  allowed 
Protestants  the  free  exercise  of  their  religion,  and  gave  them 
equal  claims  with  Catholics  to  all  offices  and  dignities.  They 
were  also  left  in  possession  of  certain  fortresses  which  had 
been  ceded  to  them  for  their  security. 

But  Louis  XIV.,  grasping   at  absolute  power,  grew  more 


470  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

and  more  fanatic  during  his  long  reign,  oppressing  the  Protes- 
tants with  ever-increasing  cruelty.  Edict  ^fter  edict  deprived 
them  of  their  civil  rights  ;  and  dragoons  were  sent  into  their 
provinces  to  compel  them  to  abjure  their  faith.  The  persecu- 
tion was  so  merciless,  that,  notwithstanding  the  king  guarded 
his  frontiers  with  the  utmost  vigilance,  more  than  five  hundred 
thousand  Huguenois  escaped  to  the  Protestant  countries  of 
Switzerland,  Germany,  Holland,  and  England. 

TVe  fanaticism  of  the  Catholics  was  such,  that  the  Edict  of 
Nantes  undoubtedly  cost  Henry  IV.  his  life.  The  assassin 
KavaiUac,  who  twice  plunged  his  dagger  into  the  bosom  of  the 
king,  said  in  his  examination,  — 

"  I  kiUed  the  king,  because,  in  making  war  upon  the  pope, 
he  made  war  upon  God,  since  the  pope  is  God." 

Louis  XIV.,  while  assuring  the  Protestant  powers  of  Europe 
that  he  would  continue  to  respect  the  Edict  of  Nantes,  com- 
menced issuing  a  series  of  ordinances  in  direct  contravention 
of  that  contract.  He  excluded  Protestants  fiom  all  public 
offices ;  forb".de  their  employment  as  physicians,  lawyers, 
apothecaries,  booksellers,  printers,  or  even  nurses.  In  many  of 
the  departments  of  France,  the  Protestants  composed  nearly 
the  entire  population.  Here  it  was  impossible  to  enforce  tlie 
atrocious  decrees.  In  other  places,  where  parties  were  more 
equal'/  divided,  riots  and  bloodshed  were  excited. 

These  ordinances  were  soon  followed  by  others  prohibiting 
marriages  between  Catholics  and  Protestants.  Catholic  ser- 
vants were  forbidden  employment  in  Protestant  families ;  and 
Catholics  were  also  forbidden  to  employ  Protestant  servants. 
On  the  17th  of  June,  1680,  the  king  issued  the  following 
<;ecree  :  — 

"We  wish  that  our  subjects  of  the  pretended  reformed 
religion,  both  male  and  female,  having  attained  the  age  of 
seven  years,  may,  and  it  is  hereby  made  lawful  for  them  to 
embrace  the  Catholic,  Apostolic,  and  Roman  religion ;  and  that, 
to  this  effect,  they  may  be  allowed  to  abjure  the  pretended 
reformed  religion,  without  their  fathers  ar_d  mothers  and  other 
kiTismen  being  allowed  to  offer  them  the  least  hinderance  under 
an*  DJ'etext  whatever  '' 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  471 

This  law  enabled  any  one  to  go  before  a  Catholic  court,  and 
testify  that  any  child  had  made  the  sign  of  the  cross,  or  kissed 
an  image  of  the  Virgin,  or  had  expressed  a  desire  to  enter  a 
Catholic  church,  and  that  child  was  immedi^.ely  wrested  from 
its  parents,  and  placed  in  a  con  rent  for  education,  whiia  the 
parents  were  compelled  to  defray  all  the  expenses. 

A  decree  was  then  issued,  that  all  Protestants  who  would 
abjure  their  faith  might  defer  the  payment  of  their  debts  for 
three  years;  should  be  exempt  from  taxation,  and  from  the 
burden  of  having  soldiers  quartered  upon  them.  Those  who 
refused  were  punished  with  a  double  portion  of  taxation  and 
a  double  quartering  of  soldiers.  Officers  were  sent  to  the  sick- 
beds of  Protestants,  that,  by  importunity  and  urgent  solicita- 
tion, they  might  convert  them  to  the  Catholic  faith.  Physi- 
cians were  ordered,  under  a  heavy  penalty,  to  give  notice  if 
any  Protestants  were  sick.  If  any  convert  from  Catholicism 
were  received  into  any  Protestant  church,  that  church  edifice 
was  immediately  closed,  and  the  further  privilege  of  public 
worship  prohibited ;  while  the  Catholic  convert  was  punished 
with  confiscation  of  property,  and  banishment  from  the  realm. 

From  four  to  ten  dragoons  were  lodged  in  the  house  of  every 
Protestant.  These  fanatic  and  cruel  men  were  ordered  not  to 
kill  the  Protestants  with  whom  they  lodged,  but  to  do  every 
thing  in  their  power  to  constrain  them  to  abjure  their  Chris- 
tian faith. 

"  They  attached  crosses  to  the  muzzles  of  their  muskets  to 
force  the  Protestants  to  kiss  them.  When  any  one  resisted, 
they  thrust  these  crosses  against  the  face  and  breasts  of  the 
unfortunate  people.  They  ppared  children  no  more  than 
persons  advanced  in  years.  Without  compassion  for  their 
age,  they  fell  upon  them  with  blows,  and  beat  them  with  the 
flat  of  their  swords  and  the  but  o.r  their  muskets.  They  did 
this  so  cruelly,  that  some  were  crippled  for  life."  ^ 

The  Protestants  were  prohibited  from  attempting  to  leave 
the  kingdom,  unde-*  peaalcy  of  perpetual  consignment  to  the 
galleys.     Every  book  in  advocacy  of  Protestantism,  which  the 

1  Histoire  de  Ti^dlt  de  In  antes,  t.  iv.  p.  479. 


472  HISTORY  OF  CHEISTIANITY. 

most  rigorous  search  could  find,  was  burned.  When  a  repre- 
sentation was  made  to  the  king  of  the  terrible  suffering  these 
enactments  were  inflicting  upon  two  millions  of  Protestants, 
he  replied, — 

"To  bring  back  all  my  subjects  to  Catholic  unity,  I  would 
willingly  with  one  hand  cut  off  the  other." 

The  king  flattered  himself  that  he  was  thus  absolutely  ex- 
terminating Protestantism  from  France.  His  officers  wrote 
him  ver}'  flattering  but  false  accounts  of  the  success  which  was 
attending  their  efforts.  It  was  reported  to  him,  that,  by  the 
persuasive  energies  of  this  rigorous  persecution,  sixt}^  thou- 
sand Protestants  in  the  district  of  Bordeaux,  and  twenty  thou- 
sand in  Montauban,  had  been  converted  to  the  Catholic  faith. 

In  September,  1685,  Louvois  wrote  to  the  king, — 

"Before  the  end  of  the  month,  there  will  not  remain  ten 
thousand  Protestants  in  all  the  district  of  Bordeaux,  where 
there  were  a  hundred  and  fift}'  thousand  the  15th  of  last 
month." 

The  Duke  of  Noailles  wrote,  "The  number  of  Protestants 
in  the  district  of  Nismes  is  about  a  hundred  and  fort}'  thou- 
sand. I  believe,  that,  at  the  end  of  the  month,  none  will  be 
left." 

Deluded  b}*  these  reports,  Louis  XIV.,  on  the  18th  of 
October,  1685,  signed  the  Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes. 
In  the  preamble  to  the  fatal  act,  he  said, — 

"We  see  now,  with  the  just  acknowledgment  we  owe  to 
God,  that  our  measures  have  secured  the  end  which  we  our- 
selves proposed,  since  the  better  and  greater  part  of  our 
subjects  of  the  pretended  reformed  religion  have  embraced 
the  Catholic  faith  ;  and  the  maintenance  of  the  Edict  of 
Nantes  I'emains,  therefore,  superfluous." 

B}-  this  act  it  was  declared  that  the  Protestant  worship 
should  be  nowhere  tolerated  in  France.  All  Protestant  pas- 
tors were  ordered  to  leave  the  kingdom  within  fifteen  daj's, 
under  penalty  of  being  sent  to  the  galleys.  Protestant  pastors 
who  would  abjure  their  faith  were  promised  a  salary  one-third 
more  than  they  had  previously  enjoyed.  Parents  were  forbidden 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  473 

fco  instruct  :'ieir  children  in  the  Protestant  religion.  Every 
child  born  in  the  kingdom  was  to  he  baptized  and  educated  by 
a  Catholic  priest.  Ail  Protectant  Jfrenchmen,  out  of  France, 
were  ordered  to  return  within  lour  months,  under  penalty  of 
confiscation  of  property.  Any  Protestant  layman  or  woman 
who  should  atteiupt  to  leave  France,  was,  if  arrested,  doomed 
to  imprisonment  for  life. 

Such  were  the  infamous  decrees  enacted  in  France  but  two 
hundred  years  ago.  The  woes  they  caused  can  never  be 
gauged :  the  calamities  they  entailed  upon  France  have  been 
awful.  Hundreds  of  thousands,  in  defiance  of  poverty,  the 
dungeon,  and  utter  temporal  ruin,  adhered  to  their  faith : 
thousands,  haggard  with  want  and  despair,  through  all  con- 
ceivable suifering,  efiected  their  escape. 

At  the  time  of  the  Revocation,  the  Protestant  population 
of  France  was  estimated  at  between  two  and  three  millions. 
Though  the  edict  was  enforced  by  the  government  with  the 
utmost  severity,  many  noble-hearted  Catholics  sympathized 
with  the  Protestants,  befriended  them  in  various  ways,  and 
aided  them  to  escape.  Though  guards  were  placed  upon  every 
road  leading  to  the  frontiers,  and  thousands  of  fugitives  were 
arrested,  still  thousands  escaped.  Some,  in  armed  bands,  fought 
their  way  with  drawn  swords ;  some  obtained  passports  from 
kind-hearted  Catholic  governors;  some  bribed  their  guards; 
some  travelled  by  night  from  hiding-place  to  hiding-place; 
some  assumed  the  disguise  of  peddlers  selling  Catholic  relics. 
It  is  estimated  by  Catholic  writers  that  about  two  hundred  and 
thirty  thousand  escaped.  Antoine  Court,  one  of  the  Protestant 
pastors,  places  the  number  as  hi^h  as  eight  hundred  thousand. 
M.  Sismondi  thinks  that  as  many  perished  as  escaped:  he 
places  the  number  of  each  at  between  three  and  four  hundred 
thousand. 

The  suffering  was  awful.     Multitudes  perished  of  cold,  hun- 
ger, and  exhaustion.      Thousands  were  shot  by  the  soldiery. 
So  many  were  arrested,  that  the  prisons  and  galleys  of  France 
were  crowded  with  victims.     Among  these  were   many  me 
Illustrious  in  rank  and  cixlture.     The  arrival  of  the  fugitives, 


474  HISTORY  OF  CHEISTIANITY. 

emaciate  and  woe-stvicken,  upon  the  soil  of  Protestant  coun- 
tries, created  intense  sensation.  From  every  Protestant  court 
in  Europe  a  cry  of  indignation  arose.  England,  Switzerland, 
Holland,  Prussia,  Denmark,  Sweden,  received  the  sufferers 
with  warm  demonstrations  of  hospitalitj'  and  s}  mpath}'. 

The  loss  to  France  was  irreparable.  Onl}'  one  year  after 
the  Revocation,  Marshal  Vauban  wrote, — 

"France  has  lost  a  hundred  thousand  inhabitants,  sixty 
millions  of  coined  monc}',  nine  thousand  sailors,  twelve 
thousand  disciplined  soldiers,  six  hundred  officers,  and  her 
most  flourishing  manufactures." 

The  fanatic  king,  instead  of  being  softened  bj'  these  woes' 
became  more  unrelenting.  He  issued  an  ordinance  requiring 
that  all  the  children  between  five  and  sixteen  3'ears  of  age,  of 
parents  suspected  of  Protestantism,  should  be  taken  from 
their  homes,  and  placed  in  Catholic  families.  All  books  which 
it  was  thought  in  any  way  favored  the  Protestant  faith  were 
seized  and  burned.  "The  Bible  itself,  the  Bible  above  all,  was 
confiscated  and  burned  with  persevering  animosity'.'" 

But  no  power  of  persecution  could  utterl}'  crush  out  be- 
tween two  and  three  millions  of  Protestants,  nearl}'  every 
one  of  whom  was  read}'  to  go  to  the  stake  in  defence  of  his 
faith.  In  some  of  the  provinces  the  Protestants  were  in  so 
large  a  majority-,  and  were  organized  under  such  able  military 
leaders,  that  the  king  was  unable  to  enforce  with  any  eflfi- 
ciency  his  sanguinar}-  code. 

In  contemplation  of  such  scenes  of  fanaticism  and  suffering, 
one  is  led  to  inquii'C  if  Christianity  has,  on  the  whole,  proved 
a  blessing  to  mankind.  But  let  it  be  remembered,  that  as 
secular  history  is  mainl}'  occupied  with  a  record  of  the  wars 
and  the  woes  of  humanit}-,  while  years  of  tranquillity  and  peace 
have  no  annalists  ;  so  historians  of  the  Church  have  beenmainlj' 
occupied  with  the  corruptions  which  human  depravit}'  have 
introduced  into  the  pure,  simple,  and  beneficent  principles  of 
the  religion  of  Jesus.  But  there  is  liltle  to  be  recorded  of 
the  millions  u[)on  millions  of  Christians  in  private  life,  who, 

1  History  of  the  Protestants  in  France,  by  Trof .  G.  de  Felice. 


El-ffllEl^T  Pj.EPnynt^  THE  13^^  CEIITUPC.' 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  475 

from  youth  to  old  ag-e,  have  had  their  hearts  purified,  their 
manners  softened,  their  homes  cheered  and  blessed,  by  those 
quiet  yirtueb  which  their  faith  has  inculcated.  Every  joy  of 
their  live^  had  been  magnified,  and  every  grief  solaced-  by 
their  piety. 

They  have  fallen  asleep  in  Jesus,  triumphant  over  death  and 
the  grave,  and  are  now  with  angel-companions  in  the  paradise 
of  God.  No  man  can  estimate  the  multitude  of  these  redeemed 
ones:  their  number  is  "ten  thousand  times  tan  thousand,  and 
thousands  of  thousands."  And  now,  to  use  the  glowing  lan- 
guage of  inspiration,  — 

"  Are  they  before  the  throne  of  God,  and  serve  him  day  and 
night  in  his  temple ;  and  He  that  sitteth  on  the  throne  shall 
dweU  among  them.  They  shall  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst 
any  more  ;  neither  shall  the  sun  light  on  them,  nor  any  heat : 
for  the  Lamb  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  shall  feed 
them,  and  shall  lead  them  unto  living  fountains  of  waters  ;  and 
God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes."  ^ 

In  the  accompanying  group  of  portraits,  the  reader  will  find 
correct  likenesses  of  some  of  the  most  distinguished  of  the  Prot- 
estant clergy  during  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries. 

Thomas  Chalmers,  one  of  the  most  eloquent  and  renowned 
of  the  Presbyterian  clergy  of  Scotland,  was  bom  at  Anstruther, 
in  Fifeshire,  the  17th  of  March,  1780.  At  the  early  age  of 
twelve,  he  entered  the  University  of  St.  Andrew's.  Distinguish- 
ing himself  as  a  scholar,  he  was  licensed  to  preach  in  his  nine- 
teenth year.  When  he  was  first  ordained  minister  of  a  small 
parish  at  Kilmany,  his  mind  was  chiefly  occupied  with  studies 
of  natural  science,  and  in  speculating  upon  moral,  social,  and 
political  questions.  Though  he  devoted  little  time,  compara- 
tively, to  the  pulpit,  stUl,  with  powers  of  glowing  and  impas- 
sioned eloquence  which  drew  great  multitudes  to  hear  him.  he 
enforced  the  highest  principles  of  worldly  morality.  Though 
the  audiences  listened,  charmed  by  his  eloquence,  he  testifies, 
that,  at  the  clcse  of  twelve  years,  he  could  not  perceive  tbat  any 
good  had  been  accomplished  by  his  preaching.     This  led  him 

>  Rev.  vii.  15-17. 


476  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANIT7. 

to  inqaire  wliy  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  \j  the  apostlei 
produced  results  so  different  from  tnose  which  he  witnessed. 

These  anxious  questions,  in  connection  with  a  dangerous  ill- 
ness and  severe  domestic  bereavements,  led  him  to  a  renewed 
examination  of  the  New  Testament.  He  then  perceived  that 
he  had  been  a  stranger  to  the  gospel  of  Christ,  and  that  he 
had  been  preaching  simply  a  code  of  morals,  without  regard  to 
those  great  aoctriaes  which  are  the  "  wisdom  of  God,  and  the 
power  of  God  unto  salvation."  From  his  sick-bed  he  returned 
to  the  pulpit,  a  new  man,  to  proclaim  to  his  congregation,  with 
increasing  fervor  of  utterance,  salvation  through  faith  in  an 
atoning  Saviour.  The  style  of  his  preaching  was  thoroughly 
changed.  The  themes  upon  which  he  dwelt,  and  upon  which 
he  brought  to  bear  all  the  powers  of  his  rich  and  varied  culture 
and  his  impassioned  eloquence,  were  the  lost  state  of  mankind 
by  the  fall ;  the  atonement  for  human  guilt  made  by  the  suffer- 
ings and  death  of  the  Son  of  God  upon  the  cross  at  Calvary ; 
redemption  from  sin  and  its  penalty,  obtained  through  peni- 
tence and  faith  in  this  atoning  Saviour;  regeneration, — the 
recreating  of  the  soul  by  the  energies  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and 
the  endeavor  to  live  a  Christ-like  life,  as  the  result  of  this 
renewal  by  the  Holy  Ghost. 

There  was  vitality  in  these  doctrines ;  they  inspired  the 
preacher  with  zeal  unknown  before ;  and,  from  that  hour  to 
the  day  of  his  death,  Thomas  Chalmers  preached  the  glad  tid- 
ings of  the  gospel  with  power,  and  with  success  unsurpassed, 
perhaps,  by  any  other  preacher  in  Great  Britain  or  America. 
He  stUl  continued  to  prosecute  his  literary  and  scientific  studies, 
but  brought  all  his  resources  to  the  advocacy  of  the  gospel.  In 
on  of  his  published  articles,  he  alludes  with  admiration  to  the 
jiistory  of  Pascal,  "  who,  after  a  youth  signalized  with  profound 
speculations,  had  stopped  short  in  a  brilliant  career  of  dis- 
covery, resigned  the  splendors  of  literary  reputation,  renounced 
without  a  sigh  all  the  distinctions  which  are  conferred  upon 
genius,  o  .ly  to  devote  every  talent  and  every  hoar  to  ^he 
defence  ard  illustration  of  the  gospel."  ^ 

1  New  American  Encyclopxdim, 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  477 

His  pulpit  eloquence  attracted  listeners  from  great  distances. 
A.n  article  which  he  wrote  for  "  The  Encyclopgedia "  in  1813, 
apon  "  The  Evidences  of  Christianity,"  attracted  great  atten- 
tion, and  was  immediately  republished  in  separate  volumes. 
Several  review  articles  which  he  wrote  upon  scientific  and 
political  questions  added  greatly  to  his  renown.  In  1815  he 
was  invited  to  the  pastoral  charge  of  a  parish  in  Glasgow. 
Here,  for  eight  years,  he  stood,  as  a  pulpit  orator,  without  a 
rival.  The  most  distinguished  philosophers  and  the  most  un- 
lettered men  were  alike  charmed  by  his  address. 

Jeffries  describes  the  impression  produced  by  his  sermons  as 
similar  to  the  effect  created  by  the  most  impassioned  strains  of 
Demosthenes.  Wilberforce  wrote  in  his  diary,  "  All  the  world 
IS  wild  about  Dr.  Chalmers."  He  delivered  a  series  of  weekly 
lectures  on  "  The  Connection  of  the  Discoveries  of  Astronomy 
and  the  Christian  Revelation."  They  were  listened  to  with 
intense  admiration,  and,  being  published  in  1817,  secured  an 
immense  sale,  rivalling  even  the  Waverley  Novels  in  popu- 
larity. 

His  ^--.ma  was  such,  that,  being  invited  to  London  to  preach, 
the  most  distinguished  men  in  the  kingdom  crowded  the 
church,  and  listened  with  admiration  to  his  glowing  utter- 
ances. Several  articles  which  he  contributpd  to  "  The  Edin- 
burgh Review  "  added  much  to  his  celebrity  as  a  philosopher, 
a  statesman,  and  an  accomplished  scholar.  Through  his  influ- 
ence, the  old  parochial  system  of  Scotland  v;as  thoroughly 
revised ;  and  the  whole  community  wao  divided  iuro  smal^ 
sections,  so  as  to  bring  every  individual  un,iler  educat'oual  and 
ecclesiastical  influences.  The  parish  of  St.  John  w^hich  con- 
tained two  thousand  families,  eight  hundred  of  whom  were  aot 
connected  with  any  Christian  church,  was  intrusted,  a^*  in 
experiment,  entirely  to  his  supervision.  The  support  of  the 
poor  in  that  parish  had  been  costing  seven  thousand  dollars  a 
ear.  In  four  years  the  poor  were  in  far  more  comiortable 
circumstances,  and  the  expense  of  their  support  amounted  to 
out  foux-teen  hundred  dollars  a  year.  Ev«.;7  ctreet  and  lane 
was  8^  otematically  visited. 


4.78  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

In  the  year  1823,  Dr.  Chalmers  accepted  the  professorship  of 
moral  philosophy  in  the  University  of  St.  Andrew's  ;  and  in  the 
year  1828  he  was  transferred  to  the  higher  sphere  of  professor 
of  theology  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  Here  he  remained 
for  fifteen  years.  The  enthusiasm  inspired  by  his  ardor  ani^ 
eloquence  crowded  his  lecture-room,  not  only  with  students,  hut 
with  men  of  the  highest  literary  distinction,  and  clergymen  of 
every  denomination.  In  the  year  1833  he  made  a  tour  through 
Scotland,  collecting  funds,  and  urging  forward  a  movement 
which  would  so  increase  the  churches  of  the  country,  that  the 
cl:.ims  of  religion  should  be  urged  upon  every  individual  heart. 
K&  had  became  the  recognized  leader  of  what  was  called  the 
Evangelical  party.  In  the  General  Assembly  of  1834  —  of 
which  Dr.  Chalmers  was  moderator  —  a  resolution  was  pi-essd, 
that  no  minister  should  be  foreed  upon  any  parish  ags-mst 
whom  a  majority  of  the  congregation  should  remonstrate. 
This  gave  rise  to  a  very  violent  controversy.  The  civil  coarta 
declared  this  to  be  contrary  to  the  law  of  the  land.  Thns  the 
churrb  ani  the  civil  courts  came  into  collision. 

The  rssult  was,  that,  after  a  struggle  of  ten  ye^rs,  four 
hundred  and  seventh  clergymen  withdrew  from  the  Es'ia  lisJii  i 
Church,  and  associated  themselves  as  the  "Ereo  Church  ci 
Scotland,"  choosing  Dr.  Chalmers  their  moderator.  The  last 
four  years  of  Dr.  Obalmers's  busy  life  were  spent  in  organiz- 
ing the  new  char:;h,  ih.  performing  the  duties  of  president  of 
the  Free  Church  Oollege  which  had  been  founded,  and  in 
writing  for  "The  i'^orth-British  Review,"  which  had  been 
established  under  his  superintendence.  In  the  midst  of  these 
arduous  'abors,  Dr.  Chalmers  was  suddenly  called  to  his  final 
rest.  He  had  just  returned  from  London,  where  he  hiid  been 
cousulting  some  eminent  statesmen  upon  his  view:,  cf  national 
education,  when  he  was  found,  on  the  morning  cf  t^.i  31si  of 
May,  1847,  dead  in  his  bed,  at  Morningside,  near  EJinburgh. 
During  the  night,  he  had  "  fallen  asleep  in  Jesr.G.  '  The  tran 
quillity  of  hi^"  f'^atures  showed  that  the  soul  had  taken  itK 
upward  flight  fr  ..a  the  body  without  a  struggle  or  a  pang. 
He  had  attained  the  age  of  sixty-seven  years. 


THE  CT^URCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  47 ^ 

Jonathan  Edwards,  perhaps,  takes  the  rank  oi  the  most 
illustrious  of  American  divines.  He  was  horn  at  East  Wind- 
sor, Conn.,  on  the  5th  of  October,  1703.  Dr.  Chalmers  said  of 
him,  — 

"  On  the  arena  of  metaphysics,  Jonathan  Edwards  stood  the 
highest  of  his  conterzpoinries.  The  American  divine  a.ffords, 
perhaps,  the  mo^-t  y,ondious  example  in  modern  times  of  one 
who  stood  gifted  b^th^in  naturrJ  and  spiritizal  discernment." 

Sir  James  Mackintoch  sa/s  of  him,  "  This  remarkable  man 
—  the  metaphysician  of  America  —  was  formed  among  the 
Calvinists  of  New  England.  His  power  of  subtle  argument, 
perhaps  unmatched,  certainly  unsurpassed,  among  men,  was 
joined  with  c  character  whicT  raised  his  piety  to  fervor." 

Robert  Hall  writes,  "  Jonatha  i  Edwards  ranks  with  the 
brightest  luminaries  of  the  Christian  Church,  not  excluding 
any  country  or  any  age." 

In  a  family  of  ten  sisters,  Jonathan  waa  an  only  son.  His 
father  and  his  grandfather,  on  hir  mother's  side,  were  both 
eminent  ministers  of  the  gospel.  Llis  fathar  was  distinguished 
for  scholarship  in  Hebrew,  Greek,  and  Latin.  Und)r  hhe 
tuition  of  his  father  and  his  accomplished  elder  sisters,  '^e 
youthful  intellect  of  Jonathan  was  very  rapidly  develo-  'c-. 
Before  he  was  ten  years  of  age,  he  became  deeply  concerned 
for  his  soul's  salvation,  and  engaged  very  earnestly  in  a  life 
of  devotion,  praying  five  times  a  day  in  secret.  At  that  early 
age  he  wrote  a  treatise,  ridiculing  the  idea  that  the  soul  is 
material.  When  twelve  years  of  age,  there  was  a  remarkable 
revival  in  his  father's  parish.  In  a  letter  to  an  absent  sister, 
he  wrote,  — 

"  The  very  remarkable  outpouring  of  the  Spirit  of  God  still 
continues  :  but  I  have  reason  to  think  that  it  is  in  some 
meastire  diminished ;  yet,  I  hope,  not  much.  Three  have 
joined  the  church  since  you  last  heard ;  five  now  stand  pro- 
pounded for  admission ;  and  I  think  above  thirty  persons 
come  commonly  on  a  Monday  to  converse  with  father  about 
'^he  condition  of  their  souls." 

In  September,  1716,  when  in  his  thirteenth  year,  Jonathan 


480  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

entered  Yale  College.  He  devoted  himself  assiduously  to 
stud\' ;  and  the  character  of  his  mind  may  be  inferred  from 
the  fact,  that,  when  but  fifteen  3'ears  of  age,  he  was  discuss- 
ing with  the  utmost  interest  such  questions  as  "whether  it 
were  possible  to  add  to  matter  the  propert}'  of  thought :"  he 
argued  that  "every  thing  did  exist  from  all  eternity  in  un- 
created idea  ;"  that  "truth  is  the  agreement  of  our  ideas  with 
the  ideas  of  God  ;"  that  "the  universe  exists  nowhere  but  in 
the  divine  mind  ;"  &c. 

When  about  sixteen  years  of  age,  wtiile  in  college,  his 
mind  seems  to  have  settled  into  a  calm   trust  in  God.     His 
theological  opinions  became  unalterably  formed.     The  peace 
which  tlius  dawned  upon  his  mind  he  describes  in  his  diar\' ' 
in  glowing  language  : — 

"The  appearance  of  every  thing  was  altered.  There  was, 
as  it  were,  a  calm,  sweet  cast,  or  appearance,  of  divine  glor}- 
in  almost  every  thing.  God's  excellency,  his  wisdom,  his 
purit}'  and  love,  seemed  to  appear  in  the  sun,  moon,  and 
stars  ;  in  the  clouds  and  blue  sk}' ;  in  the  grass,  flowers, 
trees  ;  in  the  water,  and  in  all  nature." 

After  taking  his  degree,  he  remained  for  two  3ears  at  K^ew 
Haven,  studying  theology  ;  and,  before  he  was  nineteen  years 
of  age,  was  invited  to  preach  in  a  Presbyterian  church  in  New 
York.  He  preached  with  great  fervor,  and  in  the  enjoyment 
of  intense  spiritual  delight,  for  eight  months,  when  he  returned 
to  his  father's  home  in  East  Windsor,  where  he  continued  his 
severe  and  unremitting  studies.  Here,  with  much  prayer,  the 
3'oung  Christian  wrote  a  series  of  sevent}'  resolutions  to  guide 
him  in  the  conduct  of  life.     We  find  in  them  the  resolves, — 

To  act  always  for  the  glory  of  God  and  for  the  good  of 
mankind  in  general ;  to  lose  not  one  moment  of  time  ;  to  live 
with  all  his  might  while  he  did  live  ;  to  let  the  knowledge  of 
the  failings  of  others  only  promote  shame  in  himself  ;  to  solve, 
as  far  as  he  could,  any  theorem  in  divinity  he  might  think  of ; 
to  trace  actions  back  to  their  original  source  ;  to  be  firmly 
faithful  to  his  trust ;  to  live  as  lie  would  if  it  were  but  an 
hour  before  he  should  hear  the  last  trump  ;  to  strive  every 
week  for  a  higher  and  still  higher  exercise  of  grace. 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  481 

In  the  diary  of  this  young  man  of  nineteen  we  find  the 
following  narrative  :  "  They  say  there  is  a  young  lady  in  New 
Haven  who  is  heloved  of  that  great  Being  who  made  and 
rules  the  world  ;  and  that  there  are  certain  seasons  in  which 
this  great  Being,  in  some  way  or  other,  comes  to  her,  and  fills 
her  mind  with  exceeding  sweet  delight ;  and  that  she  hardly 
cares  for  any  thing  except  to  meditate  on  him  ;  that  she  ex- 
pects after  a  while  to  be  received  up  where  he  is,  —  to  be  raised 
up  out  of  the  world,  and  caught  up  into  heaven,  being  assured 
that  he  loves  her  too  well  to  let  her  remain  at  a  distance  from 
him  always.  There  she  is  to  dwell  with  him,  and  to  be  ravished 
with  his  love  and  delight  forever.  Therefore,  if  you  present 
all  the  world,  with  the  richest  of  its  treasures,  she  disregards 
it,  and  cares  not  for,  and  is  unmindful  of,  any  path  of  afflic- 
tion. 

"  She  has  a  singular  purity  in  her  affections  ;  is  most  just 
and  conscientious  in  all  her  conduct ;  and  you  could  not  per- 
suade her  to  do  any  thing  wrong  or  sinful  if  you  would  give 
her  all  this  world,  lest  she  should  offend  this  great  Being.  She 
is  of  a  wonderful  sweetness,  calmness,  and  universal  benevo- 
lence, especially  after  this  great  God  has  manifested  himself 
to  her  mind.  She  will  sometimes  go  about  from  place  to 
place,  singing  sweetly;  and  seems  to  be  always  full  of  joy  and 
pleasure,  and  no  one  knows  for  what.  She  loves  to  be  alone, 
walking  the  fields  and  groves ;  and  seems  to  have  some  one 
invisible  always  conversing  with  her." 

This  young  lady,  Sarah  Fierrepont,  eventually  became  the 
wife  of  Mr.  Edwards.  Though  several  congregations  invited 
him  to  become  their  pastor,  he  decided  to  devote  two  more 
years  to  study  before  assuming  the  responsibilities  of  a  parish. 
In  June,  1724,  he  was  appointed  tutor  in  Yale  College.  The 
duties  of  this  station  he  fulfilled  with  great  success,  devoting 
himself  with  tireless  assiduity  to  study,  practising  great  absti- 
nence both  from  food  and  sleep.  In  February,  1727,  he  entered 
upon  tae  ofiice  of  colleague-pastor  with  Rev.  Solomon  Stoddard, 
his  mother's  father,  in  Northampton,  Mass.,  then,  as  now,  one 
of  tb*  IT  rct  beautiful  towns  in  New  England.     Immediately 

31 


482  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

after  his  settlement,  he  sought  the  hand  of  Sarah  Pierrepont 
as  his  bride. 

"  She  listened  to  his  urgency ;  and  on  July  28,  about  five 
months  after  he  was  settled,  the  youthful  preacher  was  joined 
in  wedlock  at  New  Haven  with  the  wonderfully-endowed  bride 
of  his  choice.  She  was  pure  and  kind,  uncommonly  beautiful 
and  aifectionate,  and  notable  as  a  housekeeper ;  he,  holy  and 
learned  and  eloquent,  and  undoubtedly  the  ablest  young 
preacher  of  his  time ;  she  seventeen,  he  twenty-three.  What 
was  wanting  to  their  happiness  ?  The  union  continued  for 
more  than  thirty  years  ;  and  she  bore  him  three  sons  and  eight 
daughters." 

Rapidly  the  fame  of  the  young  preacher  spread ;  for  in  his 
sermons  were  found  a  union  of  the  closest  reasoning,  glow- 
ing imagination,  and  fervid  piety.  A  wonderful  revival  of 
religion  soon  followed  his  earnest  ministrations,  exceeding 
any  thing  which  had  then  been  known  in  North  America. 
Edwards  wrote  an  account  of  the  surprising  conversions  which 
took  place,  which  narrative  was  republished  in  England  and 
in  Boston. 

Thus  the  years  passed  rapidly,  prosperously,  and  happily 
away,  as  his  powers  of  eloquence  and  the  productions  of  hia 
pen  extended  his  fame  through  Europe  and  America.  But 
suddenly  a  bitter  controversy  arose  in  the  church  to  which  he 
ministered.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Stoddard,  a  man  of  mild  cb^xac- 
ter  and  lax  discipline,  had  introduced  to  the  church  iiiany 
who  did  not  profess  to  be  in  heart  Christians,  the  subjects  of 
renewing  grace.  It  had  been  tacitly  assumed  that  the  Lord's 
Supper  was  a  converting  ordinance,  and  that  any  person  of 
respectable  character  might  unite  with  the  church,  and  partake 
of  the  Lord's  Supper,  as  he  might  attend  upon  the  preaching 
of  the  gospel.  But  Edwards  urged  that  true  conversion  should 
precede  admission  to  the  communion.  In  these  views  Edwards 
was  overborne  by  the  majority  of  the  church,  who  re"used  to 
allow  him  to  deliver  a  course  of  lectures  upon  the  subject. 
Thus,  after  years  of  a  very  unhappy  controversy,  Mr.  Edwards 
was  driven  from  his  parish  in  the  twenty-fourth  yet.?  c^  his 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TJMES.  483 

pastorate.  He  was  drawing  near  the  decline  of  life,  had  ten 
children  dependent  upon  him,  and  was  left  without  any  visible 
means  of  support.  The  magnanimity  and  firmness  which  Mr. 
Edwards  displayed  has  won  for  him  the  adrniration  of  pos- 
terity. 

In  the  town  of  Stockbridge,  among  the  mountains  of  Berk- 
shire, there  was  a  remnant  of  a  band  of  Indians  called  Housa- 
tonics.  A  few  white  settlers  had  also  purchased  lands,  and 
reared  their  farm-houses  in  that  region.  A  society  in  London, 
organized  for  the  purpose  of  propagating  the  gospel,  appointed 
him  as  missionary  to  these  humble  people.  His  income  was 
so  small,  that  it  was  found  necessary  to  add  to  it  by  the  handi- 
work of  his  wife  and  daughters,  which  was  sent  to  Boston  for 
sale. 

Ao  Mr.  Edwards  preached  to  the  Indians  extempore,  and 
through  an  interpieco',  he  lound  more  leisure  for  general 
study  than  he  had  ever  before  enjoyed ;  and  from  this  retreat 
m  the  wilderness,  during  six  years  of  intense  application,  he 
sent  forth  productions  which  arrested  the  attention  of  the 
whole  thinking  world.  His  renowned  dissertations  upon  "  The 
Freedom  of  the  Will,"  upon  *'  God's  Last  End  in  the  Creation 
of  the  World,"  upon  *'  The  Nature  of  True  Virtue,"  and  on 
"Original  Sin,"  placed  him  at  once  in  the  highest  ranks  of 
theologians  and  philosophers. 

While  thus  laboring  in  his  humble  home  in  the  then  inhospi- 
table frontiers  of  Massachusetts,  he  was  invited  to  the  presidency 
of  Princeton  College,  one  of  the  most  prominent  seminaries  in 
the  country.  The  small-pox  was  raging  in  the  vicinity,  and 
he  was  inoculated  as  an  act  of  prevention.  The  disease 
assumed  a  malignant  form ;  and  on  the  22d  of  March,  1758,  he 
died  at  Princeton,  N.  J.,  thirty-four  days  after  his  installation 
as  president.  He  had  attained  the  age  of  fifty-four  years. 
FuUy  conscious  that  death  was  approaching,  he  sent  messages 
of  love  to  th?  absent  members  of  his  family.  His  last  words 
were,  "  Trust  in  God,  and  you  need  not  fear." 

There  is  probably  no  name  in  the  modern  history  of  Chris- 
tianity more  prominent  than   that  of  John  Wesley.      It  is 


484  HISTORY  OF  OEEISTIANITF. 

certain  that  the  denomiuation  of  Methodists,  of  ■which  he  is 
the  father  and  the  founder,  has  exerted  an  influence  in  reclaim- 
ing lost  souls  to  the  Saviour  second  to  that  of  no  other  branch 
of  the  Church  of  Christ.  In  November,  1729, — less  than  a 
hundred  and  fifty  j-ears  ago, — John  Weslcv,  then  a  3'oung 
student  but  twentv-six  years  of  age  in  Oxford  University, 
England,  ■with  his  younger  brother  Charles  and  two  other 
students,  united  in  a  class  for  their  own  spiritual  improvement. 
Their  strict  habits  and  methodical  improvement  of  time  led 
their  fellow-students  to  give  them,  somewhat  in  derision,  the 
name  of  Methodists.  They  accepted  the  name,  and  made  it 
honorable. 

Such  was  the  origin  of  a  denomination  of  Christians  which 
has  now  become  one  of  the  largest  and  most  influential  in  the 
■world.  According  to  the  statistics  given  in  the  Methodist 
year  boolv,  1885,  the  denomination  no'w  numbers,  in  the 
United  States,  alone. — 


23,839 

Preachers. 

3,993,724 

Church-members. 

232,970 

Sunday-school  teachers. 

1,737,385 

Sunday-school  scholars. 

$73,975,581 

■N'alue  of  church  edifices  and  parsonages.* 

John  Wesley  was  the  son  of  a  mother  alike  remarlcable  for 
her  piety  and  her  intellectual  endowments.  He  was  born  at 
Ep'worth,  England,  on  the  17lh  of  June,  1703.  At  the  age 
of  seventeen,  he  entered  the  University  at  Oxford.  Taking  his 
first  degree  in  1 724,  he  -was  elected  fellow  of  Lincoln  College, 
and  graduated  master  of  arts  in  1726.  lie  was  at  this  time 
quite  distinguished  for  his  attainments,  particularly  in  the 
classics,  and  for  his  skill  as  a  logician.  -Beingnaturallj-of  a 
sedate,  thoughtful  turn  of  mind,  he  had  from  childhood  been 
strongly  inclined  to  the  Christian  ministry.     The  teachings  of 

*According  to  the  same  authority,  there  arc,  in  the  TJnitod  States,  Baptist 
church-members,  of  the  various  divisions  of  that  body,— Calvitist,  Freewill, 
Seventh-day,  Campbellite,  and  Winnebrunarians, — amounting  to  2,.'i52,l-:;9.  The 
Presbyterians  number  1,C02,944;  the  Congregationalists  report  3S7,G19;  ard  the 
Episcopalians,  313, SSD.  The  Catholics,  counting  all  nominal  Catho'ics  as  church- 
members  irrespective  of  moral  character.numbcr  between  three  and  five  millions. 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  485 

his  noble  mother  had  inspired  him  with  the  intense  desire 
of  being  useful  to  his  fellow-men.  Being  ordained  to  the  min- 
istrj,  he  was  for  a  short  time  his  father*-  curate.  Seturning 
to  Oxford  still  further  to  prosecute  his  studieS;  he  expressed 
strong  dissatisfaction  at  the  want  of  zeal  manifested  in  the 
Established  Church  for  the  conversion  of  sinners.  This  led 
him  to  consecrate  himself  with  great  solemnity  to  the  more 
strict  observance  of  the  duties  of  religious  life. 

He  formed  a  society  for  mutual  religious  improvement,  which 
consisted  at  first  only  of  himself,  his  younger  brother  Charles, 
and  two  others  of  his  fellow-students.  The  number  was,  how- 
ever, soon  increased  to  fifteen.  Ten  years  passed  away  with 
their  usual  vicissitudes,  nothing  occurring  worthy  of  especial 
note,  Jn  1735,  Mr.  Wesley  was  induced,  to  go  to  Georgia  to 
preach  to  the  colonists  there,  and  more  especially  to  labor  as  a 
missionary  among  the  Indiant.  The  mission  proved  very  un- 
successful. The  disturbed  state  of  the  colony  was  such,  that  he 
could  get  no  access  to  the  Indians.  Though  at  first  he  had  a 
large  and  flourishing  congregation  of  colonists  to  address  in 
Savannah,  there  soon  sprang  up  very  bitter  alienation  between 
him  and  the  people  of  his  charge.  They  rebelled  against  the 
strictness  of  discipline  which  he  attempted  to  introduce.  He 
refused  to  admit  dissenters  from  the  Episcopal  Church  to  the 
communion,  unless  they  were  rebaptized ;  insisted  upon  immer- 
sion as  the  mode  of  performing  that  rite  ;  and  became  involved 
in  a  very  serious  matrimonial  difficulty. 

The  result  was,  that  he  soon  found  his  influence  at  an  end  in 
Georgia.  After  a  residence  of  two  years  at  Savannah,  he  re- 
turned to  England,  "  shaking  t!  e  dust  off  his  feet,"  as  he  said, 
in  testimony  against  the  colonists.  Recrossing  the  Atlantic, 
he  visited  the  colony  of  Moravian  Christians,  or  United  Breth- 
ren as  they  were  also  called,  at  Hernhult,  in  Upper  Lusatia. 
This  colony  was  founded  by  Count  Zinzendorf  upon  what  he 
considered  as  the  model  of  the  primitive  apostolic  Christians. 
Leaving  out  all  the  distinctive  doctrines  of  the  various  Prot- 
estant denominations,  he  adopted  as  articles  of  faith  only  thosa 
fundamental  scriptural  truths  in  which  all  evangelical  Chrit*- 
tians  agree. 


486  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Mr.  Wesley  soon  made  the  extraordinary  discovery,  as  he 
himself  states,  that  he  had  never  been  truly  converted.  "While 
crossing  the  ocean  to  lead  others  to  the  Saviour,  he  had  never 
come  to  that  Saviour  himself..  "He  felt,"  he  said,  "a  want  of 
the  victorious  faith  of  more  experienced  Christians."  Agitated 
hy  these  thoughts,  he  at  length,  in  his  estimation,  became  a  sub- 
ject of  that  renewing  grace  entitled  in  the  Bible  being  "  born 
again."  So  sudden  was  this  change,  that  he  could  not  only 
point  out  the  day  and  the  hour,  but  the  moment  also,  when  it 
took  place.  "  It  was,"  he  says,  "  at  quarter  before  nine  o'clock 
on  the  evening  of  May  24,  at  a  meeting  of  a  society  in  Alder- 
gate  Street,  when  one  was  reading  Luther'r  Preface  to  the 
iEpistle  to  the  Romans." 

In  this  respect,  the  experience  of  Mr.  Wesley  was  somewhat 
similar  to  that  of  Dr.  Chalmers.  He  at  once  began  his  labors 
of  preaching  the  gospel  of  Christ,  with  zeal  and  success,  per- 
haps, never  surpassed.  George  Whitefield,  one  of  the  most  im- 
passioned and  eloquent  of  sacred  orators,  joined  him.  .They 
both  preached  several  times  a  day  in  the  prieons,  and  at  all 
other  places  where  they  could  gain  an  audience.  Their  fervor  at- 
tracted crowds  ;  sind  strong  opposition  began  to  be  manifestei^ 
against  them.  A^  the  Established  clergy  refused  to  open  their 
churches  to  these  zealous  preachers,  they  addressed  audiences 
in  the  open  tields,  and  particularly  in  an  immense  building 
called  the  Fourdery  at  Moorsfield.  Here  Mr.TV^esley  organized 
his  first  church  of  but  eight  to  gce.  persons.  There  was  at  that 
time  great  deadnesb  in  the  Established  Church.  Many  of  the 
nominal  pastors  were  utterly  wcr'dly  men,  who  made  no  profes- 
sion of  piety.  The  clergy  were  often  younger  sons  of  nobles, 
who  had  been  placed  over  the  chuiches  simply  through  the  influ- 
ence of  their  fathers,  that  they  might  enjoy  the  revenues  of  the 
church.  Reckless  men,  devoted  to  pleasure,  they  were  called 
'•fox-hunting  parsons  ;"  and  the  church  became  often  the  scene 
only  of  a  heartless  round  of  ceremonies.  The  masses  of  the 
people  found  nothing  in  such  a  religion  either  to  cheer  them  in 
their  sorrows,  or  to  animate  them  to  a  holy  life. 

The  preaching  of  Wesley  and  his  companions  came  directly 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  487 

home  to  tlie  hearts  of  the  people.  It  was  the  earnest  and  Im- 
passioned utterance  to  weary  souls  of  the  good  news  and  gird 
tidings  of  the  gospel.  The  little  church  of  eight  or  ten  mem- 
bers which  he  e-  !jkblished  at  the  Foundery  was  composed  of 
those  who,  as  We*iey  testifies,  "  came  to  him  and  desired  him  to 
spend  some  time  with  them  in  prayer,  and  advise  them  how  to 
escape  from  the  wrath  to  come." 

The  church  at  the  Foundery  rapidly  increased  in  numbers : 
crowds  flockad  to  listen  to  the  earnest  preaching.  The  build- 
ing was  converted  into  a  chapel,  and  became  the  centre  of  ope- 
rations. From  this  centre,  Wesley  and  his  associates  made 
constant  journeys  into  the  surrounding  country,  sometimes  to 
a  great  distance,  preaching  wherever  they  went.  They  gene- 
rally preached  twice  every  day,  and  four  times  on  the  sabbath. 
At  Kensington  Common,  Wesley  at  one  time  addressed  a  con- 
course estimated  to  be  not  less  than  twenty  thousand  persons. 

"  Wesley  devoted  himself  to  his  work  in  Great  Britain  with 
such  completeness,  that  scarcely  an  hour  was  ajstract^i  from 
the  cause  on  which  he  had  set  his  heart.  He  seldom  travelled 
less  than  forty  miles  a  day ;  and  until  near  the  close  of  life, 
when  he  used  a  chaise,  generally  went  on  horseback.  It  is 
said  that  not  an  instance  can  be  found,  during  a  period  of  fifty 
years,  wherein  the  severest  weather  hindered  him  for  a  single 
day.  His  journeys  extended  to  Ireland,  Scotland,  and  Wales, 
in  each  of  which  countries  he  preached  with  great  success. 
He  formed  societies,  and  placed  lay  preachers  over  them ;  ap- 
pointed class-leaders,  and  established  schools,  the  most  impor- 
tant of  which  was  that  of  Kingswood;  near  Bristol,  which  was 
designed  more  particularly  for  the  aoucation  of  the  sons  of 
preachers.  The  most  extraordinary  revivals  followed  his  min- 
istry, especially  among  the  poci*  and  destitute  in.  the  mining 
and  manufacturing  districts."  ^ 

Though  Wesley  continued  to  adhere  to  the  Established 
Church,  still  the  principles  of  tolerance  which  he  advocated 
tended  more  and  more,  every  day,  to  cause  the  rapidly-increasing 
Methodist  cHurches  to  be  regarded  as  a  distinct  sect.     At  the 

'  Kew  Amerioai)  Ecoyclopxdia. 


488  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 

fijst  conference  of  the  Methodist  clergy  at  the  Foundery  Chapel, 
in  1744,  eight  preachers  were  present.    Wesley  then  said,  — 

"You  cannot  he  admitted  to  the  church  of  Presbyterians, 
Baptists,  Quakers,  or  any  others,  unless  you  hold  the  same 
opinions  with  them,  and  adhere  to  the  same  mode  of  worship. 
The  Methrdists  alone  do  not  insist  upon  your  holding  this  or 
tha^  opinion ;  hut  they  think,  and  let  think.  Neither  do  they 
impose  any  particular  mode  of  worship ;  but  you  may  continue 
to  worship  in  your  former  manner,  be  it  what  it  may.  Now, 
I  do  not  know  any  other  religious  society,  either  ancient  or 
modern,  wherein  such  liberty  of  conscience  is  now  allowed,  or 
has  been  allowed  since  the  days  of  the  apostles.  Here  is  our 
glorying,  and  it  is  a  glorying  peculiar  to  us." 

In  the  year  1752,  Wesley  married  a  widow  with  four  children. 
But  tha  religious  zeal  which  inspired  him  was  singularly  mani- 
fested in  the  marriage  contract,  in  which  it  was  stipulated  that 
he  should  rot  preach  one  sermon  the  less,  nor  travel  one  mile 
the  less,  on  account  of  his  change  of  condition.  It  is,  perhaps, 
not  strange  that  the  mai'riage  did  not  prove  a  happy  one 
A.fter  a  life  of  activity  and  usefulness  to  which  few  parallels 
can  be  found,  John  Wesley  died  in  London  on  the  2d  of 
March,  1791,  m  the  eighty-third  year  of  his  age.  The  last 
four  days  of  his  life  were  days  of  Cbristian  triumph,  in  which 
the  veteran  servant  of  Christ  found  that  faith  in  Jesus  did 
indeed  make  him  victor  over  death  and  the  grave.  It  is  esti- 
mated, that,  during  his  ministry  Ox"  sixty-five  years,  he  travelled 
about  two  hundred  and  seventy  thousand  miles,  and  delivered 
over  fcrfcy  thousand  sermons,  besides  addresses,  exhortations, 
and  prayers.  The  denomination  of  which  he  wr-s  the  founder 
'8  now  exerting  in  .flngland  and  the  United  States  an  influence 
E'^coad  certainly  to  that  of  rone  other ;  and  it  is  every  hour 
mcreasing  in  all  the  elements  of  prosperity  and  power. 

Robert  Hall,  one  of  the  brightest  ornaments  of  the  Baptist 
Church,  by  universal  assent  occupies  one  of  the  most  promi- 
nent positions  among  men  of  genius  and  of  culture,  hi3  works 
having  given  him  renown  throughout  Christendom.  The  cele- 
brated Dr.  Parr,  who  was  his  intimate  friend,  says  of  him,  — 


THE  CHUhim  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  489 

"Mr.  Hall  hat',  like  Jeremy  Taylor,  the  eloquence  of  an 
orator,  the  fajicy  of  a  poet,  the  subtlety  of  a  schoolman,  the 
profoundness  of  a  philosopher,  and  the  p'ety  of  a  saint." 

Robert  Hall  was  born  at  Arnsby,  Leicestershire,  England, 
in  August,  1764.  His  father,  who  was  a  Baptist  clergyman 
of  considerable  note,  early  perceived  a  wonderful  degree  of 
intellactual  development  in  his  child.     He  said  to  s,  friend,  — 

"  Robert  at  nine  years  of  age  fully  comprehended  the  reason- 
ing in  the  profoundly  argumentative  treatises  of  Edward  on  tha 
Will  and  the  Affections." 

When  fifteen  years  old,  Robert  became  a  student  in  the 
Baptist  College  at  Bristol ;  and  in  his  eighteenth  year  entered 
King's  College,  Aberdeen.  Here  he  became  acquainted  with 
Sir  James  Mackintosh,  which  acquaintance  ripened  into  a  life- 
long friendship. 

Upon  leaving  college,  Mr.  Hall  commenced  preaching,  and 
with  a  power  which  immediately  drew  .jound  him,  and  elicited 
the  admiration  of,  crowds  of  the  most  intellectual  of  hearers. 
His  biographer  says  of  him,  — 

"  Mr.  Ha.U's  voice  is  feeble,  but  very  distinct :  as  he  proceeds, 
it  trembles  under  his  energy.  The  plainest  and  least-labored 
of  his  disccurses  are  not  without  delicate  imagery  and  the 
most  felicitous  turns  of  expression.  He  expatiates  on  the  pro- 
phecies with  a  kindred  spirit,  often  conducting  his  audience  to 
the  top  of  the  '  Delectable  Mountains,'  where  they  can  see 
frori  afar  the  gates  of  the  Eternal  City.  He  seems  at  home 
among  the  marvellous  revelations  of  St.  John ;  and,  while  he 
dwells  upon  them,  he  leads  his  hearer  "breathless  through  ever- 
varying  scenes  of  mystery  far  more  glorious  and  surprising 
than  the  wildest  of  Oriental  fables.  He  stops  v/here  they  most 
desire  he  should  oroceed^  where  he  has  just  dicclosed  the  dawn- 
ings  of  the  inmost  glory  to  theii  enraptured  minds,  and  leaves 
them  full  of  imaginations  of  things  not  made  with  hands,  of 
joys  too  ravishing  for  similes." 

Robert  Hall's  life  was  devoid  of  adventure,  having  beer, 
spent  almost  exclusively  in  the  study  and  the  pulpit.  Hib 
conversatione  1  powers  were  of  the  highest  order;  and,  in  every 


490  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Bocial  circle,  crowds  gathered  around  liiin,  charmed  by  the 
unstudied  eloquence  which  flowed  from  his  lips.  He  was  an 
indefatigable  student ;  and,  though  on©  of  the  most  profound 
thinkers,  was  one  of  the  most  childlike  of  men  in  unaffected 
Bimplicity  of  character.  His  pre-eminence  in  the  pulpit  was 
universally  acknowledged,  and  his  extraordinary  powers  ever 
crowded  his  church  with  the  most  distinguished  auditors. 
During  his  life  he  issued  several  pamphlets,  which  obtained 
celebrity  throughout  all  Christendom.  A  sermon  which  he 
preached  upon  Modern  Infidelity  was  published  in  repeated 
sditions,  and  "sent  a  thrill  to  every  village  and  hamlet  of 
Great  Britain."  Its  arguments  were  so  unanswerable,  that  no 
serious  attempt  was  made  to  reply  to  them. 

"  Whoever,"  Dugald  Stewart  wrote,  "  wishes  to  see  the 
English  language  in  its  perfection,  must  read  the  writings  of 
that  great  divine,  Robert  Hall.  He  combines  the  beauties 
of  Johnson,  Addison,  and  Burke,  without  their  imperfections." 

A  very  severe  chronic  disease  of  the  spine  caused  him 
tnroughout  his  whole  life  severe  suffering.  Once  or  twice  the 
disease  so  ascended  to  the  brain,  that  the  mind  lost  its  balance ; 
and  Mr.  Hall  was  compelled  for  a  short  time  to  withdraw  from 
'lis  customary  labors. 

The  works  of  this  distinguished  man  are  still  read  with 
admiration,  and  will  be  ever  regarded  as  among  the  highest 
productions  of  the  human  intellect.  He  died,  univex'sally 
beloved  and  lamented,  on  the  21st  of  February,  1831,  in  the 
eixDy-eighth  year  of  his  a^e. 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  divine  of  the  Church  of  England  whose 
name  is  more  prominent  in  ecclesiastical  annals,  or  more 
widely  known  througnout  the  Christian  world,  than  that  of 
WiUiam  Paley.  H3  was  born  in  Peter  oorough,  England,  in 
Only,  1743.  Hi:'  father,  who  was  cuv£.te  ol  a  parish,  carefuUy 
instructed  him  in  childhood,  and,  when  his  son  was  sixteen 
years  of  age,  entered  him  at  Christ  Coibge,  in  Cambridge. 
The  superior  intellect  even  then  developed  by  the  young  man 
is  evidenced  by  the  remark  of  his  father,  "  He  has  by  far  the 
clearest  head  I  ever  met  with." 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  491 

At  the  university  lie  applied  himself  very  ■"'ilipently  to  hia 
atndies,  and  rapidly  attained  distinction.  After  graduating  in 
1763,  he  spent  three  years  as  -a  teacher,  and  then  returned  to 
his  college  as  a  tutor.  In  1775  he  was  presented  to  the  rectory 
of  Musgrove,  in  Westmoreland;  and,  marrying,  he  retzvsd  from 
the  university  to  his  living. 

The  life  of  Paley  was  in  many  respects  quite  the  reverse  of 
that  of  Wesley.  He  was  by  no  means  an  "jraent  Christian. 
His  piety,  and  his  appreciation  of  Christianity,  TFere  intellect- 
ual far  more  than  spiritual  or  emotional.  He  wr,s  not  a  pop- 
ular preacher:  his  appropriate  field  of  labor  was  the  silence 
and  solitude  of  the  study.  From  this  retreat  ac  issued  works 
upon  God,  Christian  Morals,  and  the  Evidences  of  CL"i9tianity, 
which  greatly  baffled  infidelity,  and  silenced  its  cavils. 

Being  promoted  from  one  living  to  another  as  ne  gained 
reputation,  in  1782  he  was  advanced  ';o  the  ArcJideanery  of 
Carlyle.  Three  years  after  this  he  pubucnec'  iis  first  impor- 
tant work,  entitled  "  The  Principles  of  Xcral  and  Political 
Economy."  Though  some  of  its  principles  were  violently  as- 
sailed, it  commanded  the  respectful  attention  of  all  thoughtful 
men.  The  work  became  exceedingly  popular  even  with  the 
masses,  as  Paley  had  the  power  of  making  the  most  abstruse 
truths  clear  and  entertaining  to  the  popular  mind. 

Five  years  after  this,  in  1790,  Paley  published  another  work, 
entitled  "  Horse  Paulinae,"  which  is  generally  deemed  the  most 
original  and  ingenious  of  all  his  writings.  In  this  work,  which 
obtained  renown  through  all  Christendom,  he  maintained  with 
irresistible  force  of  logic  the  genuineness  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles 
and  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  from  the  reciprocal  supports 
they  received,  from  the  undesigned  coincidences  between  them. 
This  work  added  greatly  to  the  celebrity  of  the  already  distin- 
guished writer,  and  secured  for  him  still  more  lucrative  offices 
ir    he  English  Church. 

Four  years  later,  in  1794,  he  issued  another  volume,  entitled 
''  View  of  the  Evidences  of  Christianity."  It  may  be  safely 
said  ^hat  the  aiguments  here  brought  forward  in  attestation  of 
tbj  divint,  origin  of  the  religi-.'n  of  Jesus  cf  Hazareth  never 


492  HISTORY  OF  CnRISTIANITY, 

have  been,  and  never  can  be,  refuted.  In  clo'.mess  of  diction, 
btauty  of  illustration,  and  force  of  logic,  the  vrork  has  never 
been  surpassed.  It  has  been  adopI..'.d  as  a  texL-Dook  in  many 
of  the  mos^'  distinguished  universriies,  ^ni  is  considered  one 
of  the  most  cogent  arguments  o-^  la  found  in  any  language  in 
favor  of  the  divine  authority  of  Christianity. 

Thus  does  God  raise  up  different  instruments  to  accomplish 
his  great  purposes  of  benevolence.  While  Wesley  and  his 
coadjutors  were  traversing  thousands  of  miles,  and,  by  their 
impassioned  eloquence,  were  rousing  the  humble  and  unlettered 
masses  to  an  acceptance  of  the  glad  tidings  of  the  gospel,  Paley,  -^ 
in  the  lonely  hours  of  entire  seclusion  in  his  study,  was  framing 
those  arguments  which  intellectually  enthroned  Christianity  in 
the  minds  of  the  thoughtful  and  the  philosophic. 

At  the  close  of  a  studious  life  of  sixty-two  years,  spent  in 
his  study  and  his  garden,  with  but  few  companions  and  few 
exciting  incidents,  this  illustrious  servant  of  the  Church  of 
Christ  fell  asleep  on  the  2oth  of  May,  1805. 

For  nearly  nineteen  centuries,  Christianity  has  struggled 
against  almost  every  conceivable  form  of  biiman  corruption. 
4J1  the  energies  of  the  powers  of  darkness  na\e  been  combined 
against  it.  In  this  unholy  alliance,  ^ings  h-^.ve  contributed 
imperial  power;  so-called  philosophers, like  VoltpJ^?  jave  con- 
secrated to  the  foul  enterprise  the  most  bi'illiant  encowments 
of  wit  and  learning ;  while  all  "  the  lewd  fellows  ci  the  baser 
sort"  have  swelled  the  ranks  of  infidelity  with  their  legions" of 
debauchees,  inebriates,  and  blasphemers ;  but  all  in  vain : 
generation  after  generation  of  these  despis37s  have  passed 
away,  and  perished. 

Christianity  has  been  steadfly  triumphmg  ovejt  ail  opposi- 
tion, and  was  never  before  such  a  power  in  the  world  as  at  this 
day.  Could  you,  upon  some  pleasant  sabbath  momiDg,  look 
down  from  a  balloon,  as  with  an  angel's  eye,  ovesr  the  wide 
expanse  of  Europe,  witnessing  the  movement  of  its  myriad 
population,  and,  as  with  an  angel's  ear,  listen  to  the  sounds 
which  sweep  over  its  mountains,  its  valleys,  and  ita  plains,  how 
wonderful  the  spectacle  which  would  meet  the  eye,  and  the 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERJ   TIMES.  493 

vibrations  which,  like  the  fabled  music  of  the  spheres,  would 
fill  the  air !  Suppose  it  to  be  such  a  sabbath  morning  as  Her- 
bert describes,  — 

"  Sweet  day,  so  cool,  so  calm,  so  bright. 
The  bridal  :t'  io^  earth  and  sky  :  " 

you  would  hear  the  chime  cf  millions  of  church-bells  floating 
in  iEolian  harmony  over  crowded  cities  and  green  fields,  melo- 
dious as  angel-voices  proclaiming  the  praises  of  God.  As  you 
inquire,  "What  causes  tnis  simultaneous  clangor  of  sweet 
Bounds  over  thousands  of  leag(|es  of  territory,  regardless  of  the 
barriers  of  mountains  and  livers,  of  national  boundaries  and 
diverse  tongues  ?  whence  comes  the  impulse  which  has  created 
this  wondrous  summons  to  hundreds  of  millions  of  people,  spread 
over  a  majestic  continent,  under  diverse  institutions,  speaking 
different  languages,  inhabiting  different  climes,  and  under  all 
varieties  of  forms  of  government  ?  "  you  would  be  told,  —  and 
not  an  individual  on  the  globe  would  dispute  the  assertion,  - — 
"  It  is  the  religion  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth." 

As  you  listen,  you  look ;  and,  lo !  thronging  millirns  are 
crowding  towards  innumerable  temples  of  every  variety  of 
form,  size,  and  structure.  The  gilded  chariot  waits  at  tae 
portals  of  the  castle  and  the  palace  for  the  conveyance  of  nobles 
and  kings  to  these  sanctuaries.  Through  all  the  streets  of 
the  cities,  and  over  many  green-ribboned  roads  of  the  country, 
vehicles  of  every  description  may  be  seen,  crowded  with  men, 
women,  and  children,  all  peacefully  pressing  on  to  alight  at  tho 
doors  of  these  temples.  The  pavements  of  the  crowded  towns 
are  thronged ;  pedestrians,  in  their  best  attire,  are  hastening 
along  the  banks  of  the  rivers,  and  crossing  the  pastures  and 
the  flowery  plains ;  while,  some  i"  wagons,  some  in  carts,  some 
on  horseback,  the  mighty  mayp,  unnumbered  and  innumerable 
moves  on  to  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  cathedrals  and 
village  churches,  and  to  the  humblest  edifices,  where  coarselj- 
clad  and  unlettered  peasants  meet  for  praise  and  prayer. 

The  innumerable  throng   sweeps  along   the    base   of  tha 
Carpathian  Mountains,  threads  the  passes  of  the  Tyrol,  and 


i94  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 

vyinds  its  way  tkroagh  the  gorges  of  the  Alps  and  the 
Apennines.  In  Sussia,  wrapped  in  furs,  they  struggle  through 
snow-drifts,  and  hreast  the  gale,  as  they  crowd  to  the  Greek 
Church.  On  the  sunny  banks  of  the  Mediterranean,  in  Italy, 
France,  and  Spain,  through  vine^'ards  and  orange-groves, 
cheered  by  the  songs  of  birds  and  the  bloom  of  flowers,  nobles 
and  peasants,  princes  and  subjects,  press  along  to  the  massive, 
moss-covered  churches  where  oheir  ancestors  for  centuries 
have  worshipped  according  to  the  rites  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
In  Denmark,  Sweden,  Norwaj,  and  through  all  the  highways 
and  bjways  of  England,  Scotland^  and  Wales,  the  inmates  of 
lordly  castles,  and  humble  artisans  from  mines  and  manufac- 
tories, are  moving  onward  to  the  churches  where  the  religion 
of  Jesus  is  inculcated  In  accordance  with  the  simple  rites  of 
the  Protestant  faith 

And,  if  we  cross  the  Atlantic,  we  witness  the  same  sub- 
lime spectacle,  extending  from  the  icy  regions  north  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  from  the  Atlantic 
coast  almost  to  the  base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  again 
repeated  upon  the  Pacific  shores  through  the  rapidly-popu- 
lating plains  of  California  and  Oregon.  Scarcely  have  the 
hardy  settlers  reared  half  a  dozen  log-huts  ere  the  spire  of 
the  church  rises,  where  the  religion  of  Jesus  is  taught  a» 
the  first  essential  to  the  prosperity  of  the  growing  village. 
-And  so  through  South  America:  through  its  conglomeration 
of  States,  where  light  is  contending  with  darkness ;  through 
ChUi,  Peru,  Bolivia,  and  along  the  majestic  streams  and  wide- 
spreading  savannas  of  the  vast  empire  of  Brazil,  —  the  religion 
of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  notwithstanding  the  imperfections  which 
fallen  humanity  has  attached  to  it,  is  potent  above  all  other 
influences  in  enlightening  the  masses,  and  in  moulding  their 
manners  and  their  minds.  And  now  we  begin  faintly  to  hear, 
along  the  western  coast  of  Africa  and  the  southern  shores  of 
India,  and  upon  many  a  green  tropical  island  emerging  from 
the  Pacific,  the  tolling  of  the  church-bell,  indicating  that  that 
sehgion  which  has  became  dominant  in  Europe  and  America  is 
destined  to  bring  the  whole  world,  from  pole  to  pole,  und^r  its 
benignant  sway. 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  495 

And  it  is  worthy  of  note  that  the  vaoh'c  thoroughly  Christian 
nations  are  the  most  enlightened,  moral,  and  prosperous  upon 
the  globe.  Where  we  do  not  find  this  religion,  we  meet 
effeminate  Asiatics,  stolid  Chinaman,  wandering  Tartars,  and 
Bedouins  of  the  desert  They  are  the  Christian  nations  who 
stand  forth  luminous  in  wealth,  power,  and  intellect.  These 
are  the  nations  which  seem  now  to  hold  the  destinies  of  the 
globe  in  their  hand ;  and  it  is  the  religion  of  Jesus  which 
has  crowned  them  wit>  thi?.  wealth  and  influence. 

And  a'^ain :  it  is  weix  to  call  attention  to  the  fact,  that  every 
literary  and  scientific  university  in  Christendom,  where  the 
ablest  men  in  all  intellectual  culture  do  congregate,  is  mainly 
under  the  control  of  those  who  bow  in  cordial  assent  to  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  as  their  Teacher  and  Lord. 

The  Universities  of  Cambridge  and  Oxford  in  England,  of 
Edinburgh  and  Glasgow  in  Scotland,  of  Harvard  and  Yale  in  the 
United  States,  declare  through  their  Isarned  professors,  wioh 
almost  one  united  voice,  tliat  the  salvation  of  humanity  can 
come  only  through  the  religion  of  Jesus  the  Christ.  In  France, 
Italy,  Germany,  Russia,  in  all  the  renowned,  time-honored 
universities  of  Continental  Europe,  the  name  of  Jesus  is  re- 
vered as  above  every  name,  and  his  teachings  are  regarded  as 
the  wisdom  of  God  and  tn  -.  power  of  God.  There  is  hardly  a 
university  of  learning  of  any  note,  in  Europe  or  America,  where 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  is  not  recognized  as  the  Son  of  God,  who 
came  to  seek  and  to  save  the  lost. 

The  standard  of  what  is  called  goodness  in  this  world  greatly 
varies.  "  There  is  honor  among  thieves."  A  gang  of  debau- 
chees, gamblers,  and  inebriates,  has  its  code  of  morals.  The 
proudest  oppressors  who  have  ever  crushed  humanity  beneath 
a  merciless  heel  have  usually  some  standard  of  right  and 
wrong,  so  adroitly  formed  as  to  enable  them  to  flatter  them- 
Belves  that  they  are  to  be  numbered  among  the  good  men. 

Socrates,  unenlightened  by  revelation,  simply  through  the 
teachings  of  his  own  honest  mind,  declares  him  only  to  be  a 
good  man  who  tries  to  make  himself,  and  all  whom  he  can 
influence,  as  perfect  as  possible.     The  definition  which  Jesua 


496  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

gives  of  goodness,  even  Liore  comprehensive  and  beautiful,  is, 
that  a  man  should  love  nis  Father,  God,  with  all  his  heart,  and 
his  brother,  man,  as  himself  This  is  the  only  real  goodness,  — 
angelic  goodness,  divine  goodness.  Now,  it  may  be  safely  said 
that  you  cannot  find  at  the  present  time,  or  through  all  past 
ages,  a  truly  good  man,  in  either  of  the  above  definitions  of  the 
term,  whose  character  has  not  be:n  rD/^delled  by  the  principles 
laid  down  by  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 

Let  the  mind  run  along  the  list  of  great  and  good  men,  who> 
witn  loving  hearts  and  pure  lives  d.nd  beneficent  actions,  have 
been  the  ornaments  of  humanity  ;  men  and  women  who  have 
made  their  own  homes  happy,  who  have  ever  had  an  open  hand 
to  relieve  the  distressed,  whose  hearts  have  yearned  over  the 
wandering,  and  whose  lips  have  entreated  them  to  return  to 
the  paths  of  virtue ;  and  where  can  you  find  one  who  has  not 
manifested  the  spirii;  of  Jesus,  and  drawn  his  main  inspiration 
from  the  principles  which  he  has  inculcated  ? 

There  are  now  many  men  and  women  all  over  Christendom, 
of  self-denying  lives,  active  in  every  good  word  and  work,  sym- 
pathizing with  the  afflicted,  helping  the  needy,  praying  for  and 
trying  to  reclaim  their  brothers  and  sisters  of  the  human  fam- 
ily who  are  crowding  the  paths  of  sin  ;  searching  out  the  chil- 
dren of  abandonment,  destitution,  and  woe,  from  the  depravity 
of  the  streets  and  from  homes  of  wretchedness,  that  they  may 
be  clothed  and  educated  and  made  holy,  —  there  are  thousands 
of  such ;  and  yet  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  one,  a  single  one, 
who  does  not  recognize  the  religion  of  Jesus  as  the  only  moral 
power  which  can  reclaim  a  lost  world. 

We  have  in  the  Bible  the  history  of  the  world,  and  the  biog- 
raphy of  its  leading  individuals,  from  the  dawn  of  creation 
until  those  modern  days  in  which  secular  history  takes  up  the 
record.  Through  all  these  ages  not  a  single  man  can  be  found, 
who  by  the  purity  of  his  own  life,  by  the  beneficent  influence 
of  his  example,  and  by  his  self-denying  efforts  to  promote  the 
happiness  of  others,  has  not  developed  the  principles  uttered 
by  the  lips  of  Jesus. 

Indeed,  there  is  an  absolute,  invincible  necessity  that  every 


THE  CHURCB  IN  MODERN   TIMES.  497 

iruly  good  man  should  embrace  these  principles,  and  diffuse 
them  to  the  utmost  of  his  power.  The  moment  one  awakes  to 
the  grandeur  of  his  own  being,  —  an  immortal  created  in  t-e 
image  of  God,  —  and  begins  to  breathe  the  prayer,  "  0  God  !  help 
me  to  resist  every  sin,  and  aid  me  to  cherish  every  virtue,"  he 
finds  at  once,  that,  infinitely  above  all  other  books,  the  Bible 
is  the  book  to  help  him  in  this  new  and  noble  life.  He  finds 
that  every  duty  which  his  conscience  suggests  that  he  ought  to 
perform,  the  religion  of  Jesus  urges  upon  him  by  motives  of 
infinite  weight.  Ke  finds  that  every  allurement,  every  indul- 
gence, which  would  retard  his  moral  growth,  the  religion  of 
Jesus  urges  him,  by  motives  of  infinite  weight,  to  avoid. 

All  through  the  Bible,  from  Genesis  to  Revelation,  there  ia 
one  continual  strain  of  urgency,  enforced  by  every  variety  of 
argument,  warninj?,  and  illustration,  to  aid  a  man  to  attain  a 
celestial  character. 

Ought  we  to  watch  over  our  bodies,  that  by  appetite  and  pas- 
sion they  be  not  defiled;  over  our  thoughts,  that  impurity 
enter  not  the  secret  chambers  of  the  soul ;  over  our  words,  that 
we  may  ever  speak  as  in  the  audience-chamber  of  God ;  over 
our  minds,  that  Wc  may  store  them  with  all  valuable  knowledge ; 
over  our  hearts,  that  we  may  love  God  our  Father,  and  man 
our  brother ;  over  our  actions,  that  every  deed  may  be  such  as 
God  will  approve  ?  Then  it  is  to  Jesus  of  IMazareth  we  must 
look  as  our  teacher,  our  guide,  our  helper. 

The  Bible  is  the  book  which  the  good  mother  gives  her  boy 
as  he  goes  from  homo  ;  and  she  knows  full  well,  that  if  her  boy 
will  read  that  book  daily,  and  make  it  the  guide  of  his  life,  he 
will  be  safe  for  time  and  for  eternity.  Many  a  man  has  said 
years  after  a  sainted  mother  has  ascended  to  "ler  crown,  "  It  was 
the  Bible  which  my  mother  gave  me  which  rescued  me  from 
ruin." 

How  noble  is  the  character  of  the  Christian  wife  and  mother 
formed ,  upon  the  model  of  Jesus  the  Christ !  Many  of  our 
readers  have  seen  the  most  beautiful  exemplification  of  this  in 
their  own  homes.  You  have  seen  your  mother  all-forgetful  of 
herself  in  her  generous  devotion  to  others.    You  have  seen  her 

82 


498  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

moving  like  an  angel  of  light  in  the  dark  homes  of  poverty,  and 
around  beds  of  suffering  and  death,  ever  immindful  of  her  own 
ease  if  she  could  only  heal  broken  hearts  and  soothe  the  cry 
of  anguish.  Such  nobility  the  world  will  ever  recognize,  and 
love  to  honor. 

Many  such  are  found  in  the  homes  of  our  own  land.  Many  a 
reader  can  say,  "  Such  was  ciy  motLer,  God  bless  her ! "  You 
have  seen  her  bending  over  the  cradle,  pale,  gentle,  loving  as 
an  angel ;  you  have  seen  her  placid  and  cheerful  amidst  all 
the  annoyances  ?iid  wasting  cares  of  domestic  hfe ;  you  have 
seen  her  return  home  in  the  morning,  after  watching  during 
the  night  with  a  sick  neighbor,  to  toil  all  day  long  with  fingers 
which  never  seem  to  tire,  and  with  a  gentie  spirit  which  even 
your  waywardness  could  nsver  discompose. 

And,  when  the  village-bell  tolled  her  funerai,  you  have  seen 
every  house  emptied  as  rich  and  poor  came  together  to  weep 
over  the  departure  of  one  who  was  the  friend  and  benefactor 
of  them  all.  Oh,  how  glorious  must  be  the  flight  of  such  a 
spirit,  ennobled  by  suffering,  victor  over  death  and  the  grave, 
to  join  the  peerage  of  heaven,  and  to  receive  a  coronet  in  the 
skies  1  Now,  characters  of  this  stamp  —  of  imperial  type, 
though  found  in  lowly  homes  —  are  invariably  formed  upon 
the  model  which  Jesus  Christ  has  presented. 

The  men  of  tiue  nobility  who  are  found  in  almost  every  vil- 
lage of  our  land  —  men  devoted  to  every  thing  that  is  good, 
opposed  to  every  thing  that  is  bad  —  are  men  who  have  deliber- 
ately enlisted  in  the  service  of  Jesus  Christ  as  his  disciples, 
his  imitators.  They  perseveringly  struggle  against  all  that 
is  unworthy ;  they  hunger  <ind  thirst  for  every  celestial 
virtue  ;  they  battle  against  temptation  in  whatever  form  it 
may  come  ;  cultivate  moral  courage,  that  they  may  boldly 
advocate  the  cause  of  their  Saviour,  amidst  opposition  and 
derision  if  need  be ;  and  thus  they  are  nerved  to  glorious 
achievements  in  triumphing  over  the  allurements  to  sin,  and 
in  bringing  themselves  into  entire  subjection  to  their  divine 
Master. 

Material  grandeur  of  crag  and  cataract  has  its  sublimity  j 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  499 

but  there  is  something  in  moral  excellence  which  far  surpasses, 
in  all  the  elements  of  the  sublime,  any  combinations  of  ocean, 
earth,  or  sky.  When  a  man  towers  above  his  fellow-men  in 
self-denial,  in  devotion  to  the  welfare  of  others,  in  the  en- 
deavor to  extend  virtue,  piety,  and  1:  aopiness,  a  spectacle  ia 
presented  upon  which  angels  gaze  with  admiration.  When 
we  reflect  upon  what  w  :caay  bscome  in  social  loveliness,  in 
majesty  of  virtue,  in  dignilr^  c-f  character,  we  can  hardly 
wonder  that  even  the  Con  of  Gcd  should  be  willing  to  di« 
upon  the  cross  to  save  such  a  cue  from  the  ruin  of  sin.  Here 
below,  in  the  midst  of  all  ms^n's  frailties  and  wickedness,  we 
catch  glimpses  of  the  angel  dignity  from  which  he  h^iS  fallen, 
and  to  which  he  may  again  soar. 

The  wreck  is  to  be  repaired ;  the  ruin  is  to  be  rebuilt. 
What  a  glorious  creation  will  man  become,  when,  redeemed, 
regenerated,  created  anew  in  Christ  Jesus,  he  emerges  from 
the  fall  in  more  than  the  majesty  of  his  original  grandeur, 
no  longer  but  a  "little  lower"  than  the  angels,  but  on  an 
equality  with  the  loftiest  spirits  who  bow  before  God's  throne ! 

And,  oh  !  it  is  sc  sal  —  the  saddest  sight  of  earth  —  to  see  one 
who  is  createc"  of  a  noble  nature,  with  glowing  intellect  and 
gushing  affections,  formed  to  itove  like  slw  angel  of  light 
amidst  sonowmg  humanity,  to  cheer  the  heart-stricken,  to 
strengthen  the  tempted,  to  support  the  weak,  to  win  and  save 
the  lost,  —  it  T3;  indeed,  a  sad  sipht  to  fe^se  such  a  one,  all  un- 
mindful of  nis  lofty  lineaga  and  glorious  ■inb'^^tance,  casting 
every  thinp  that  is  noble  away,  and  living  miserably  for  self 
and  sin  !  Earth  is  full  of  such  melancholy  wrecks,  as  of  arch- 
angels ruinsd.  All  material  ruins,  ail  mouldering  turrets,  and 
towers  of  baronial  castles,  —  Melrose,  Dracheufels,  Heidelberg, 
—  before  such  moral  wrecks,  pile  into  "insignificance. 

There  is  a  shi^^  in  a  foreign  port.  The  rude  sailors  from  the 
forecastle  have  gone  on  shore  to  the  drinking-saloon  and  the 
dancing-hall  to  spend  the  night  in  revelry  and  sin.  But  one 
has  remained  behind.  With  the  moral  courage  of  a  martyr, 
he  has  braved  the  insults  and  ridicule  of  his  companions. 
Ajid  now  it  is  midnight.     He  is  kneeling  beside  his  berth  in 


iiOO  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

prayer.  There  is  a  half-closed  book  by  his  side.  Does  any 
one  doubt  what  that  book  is  ?  Is  there  any  other  book  but 
the  Bible  which  can  inspire  him  with  such  moral  courage  as 
this  ?  It  is  from  its  pages  that  he  has  learned  that  it  is  bet- 
ter "  to  suffer  affliction  with  the  people  of  God  than  to  enjoy 
the  pleasu-^es  of  ain  for  a  season."  ^ 

Far  away  upon  the  lonely  prairie,  there  was  a  settler  in  his 
solitary  log-cabin.  From  his  humbli  door-sill,  nought  was  to 
be  seen  in  the  wide  expanse  of  many  leagues  but  the  prairie's 
undulating  ocean  of  grass  and  flowers,  broken  here  and  there 
with  a  clump  of  trees,  emerging  as  an  island  from  the  silent 
sea.  In  that  vast  solitude  there  was  a  Christian  family,  im- 
poverished by  misfortune,  struggling  to  rear  for  themselves  a 
new  home :  it  consisted  of  a  father,  mother,  and  nine  chil- 
dren. Death  came.  The  mother,  who  had  ever  been  an  angel 
of  light  in  her  home,  was  stricken  down  by  death.  There  were 
no  neighbors  to  help ;  there  was  no  Christian  minister  near 
CO  offer  the  supports  of  the  gospel.  Sadly  the  father  dug  the 
grave ;  sadly,  with  the  aid  of  his  weeping  children,  he  bore 
the  sacred  remains  to  their  burial;  sadly,  silently,  with  a 
broken  heart,  he  fiUed  up  the  grave,  which  sntombed  all  his 
earthly  hopes  and  joys. 

The  evenin?  sun  was  just  sinking  bensath  the  distant 
horizon  of  the  prairie :  that  Christian  father,  in  his  desolated 
cabin,  crushed  with  grief,  had  assembled,  as  had  ever  been  his 
wont,  his  little  household  around  him,  to  seek  the  blessing  of 
God.  They  were  aU  bowed  together  upon  their  knees.  The 
angels  hovering  over  them  could  hear  the  sobs  cf  the  children 
and  the  moaning  prayer  of  the  father. 

Upon  the  table  there  was  one  book,  —  one  open  book,  from 
which  the  husband  and  father  had  been  reading.  Can  any 
one  doubt  what  that  book  was?  It  was  opsned  at  the  consol- 
ing passage,  — 

"  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled :  ye  believe  in  God ;  be- 
lieve also  in  me.  In  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions  : 
if  it  were  not  so,  I  would  have  told  you.     I  go  to  prepare  a  place 

1  Heb.  xi.  25. 


THE  CHURCH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  501 

for  you.  And,  if  I  go  and  prepare  a  place  for  you,  I  will  come 
again,  and  rreceive  you  unto  myself;  that  where  T  am,  there 
ye  may  be  also."  ^ 

What  words  of  comfort  to  the  mourner  !  0  precious  Bible  ! 
thou  instructor  of  the  ignorant,  guide  of  the  erring,  consoler 
of  the  afflicted,  supporter  of  the  dying ;  thou  unfailing  friend 
of  all  the  weary  and  the  heart-crushed ;  thou  only  hope  of 
humanity,  —  thou  art  indeed  God's  best  gift  to  oui  fallen  race. 
In  the  natural  world  there  is  infinite  variety,  —  room  for  the 
gratification  of  every  diversity  af  tasta.  Here  rise  the  craggy 
mountains,  with  their  eternal  glaciers, -=— their  pinnacles,  thun- 
der-riven, storm -torn,  piercing  the  skies;  there  sleeps  the 
placid  lake,  embowered  in  groves,  fringed  with  blooming 
meadows,  and  upon  whose  bosom  lie  at  the  graceful  many- 
colored  waterfowl  undisturbed :  here  extends  the  limitless 
prairie,  an  ocean  of  land,  embroidered  with  flowers  whose  hues 
Solomon,  arrayed  in  all  his  glory,  could  not  outvie  ;  there 
Sahara's  boundless  sands  in  dreary  desolation  glisten  in  the 
sun  ;  and  there  the  Dismal  Swamp,  which  even  the  foot  of  the 
moccaaoned  Indian  cannot  penetrate,  frowns  in  eternal  gloom, 
—  all  subserving  some  good  end,  all  ministering  to  the  glory 
Oi.  God  and  the  good  of  his  children. 

|So  in  the  Bible,  God's  Word,  we  fi.nd  that  which  is  adapted 
to  every  variety  of  taste,  every  condition  of  mind,  every  gra- 
dation of  intellect  and  of  culture.  One  page  conducts  you 
back  to  the  pastoral  simplicity  of  the  world's  infancy:  you 
wander  with  the  patriarchs  as  they  pitch  their  tents  and  tend 
their  flocks  beneath  the  sunny  skies  of  the  Orient.  Another 
page  moves  your  so^il  with  the  sublime  denunciations  of  the 
prophets,  before  which  denunciations  monarchs  trembled,  and 
empires  crumbled  to  ruin.  You  turn  the  leaf;  and  the  majestic 
dynasties  of  the  long-bu;cisd  ".ges  pass  before  you  in  sombre 
procession,  with  aU  theii  vicissitudes  of  pomp  and  of  death, 
of  revelry  and  of  wailing.  You  open  to  another  chapter ;  and 
your  eo'il  is  ftoothsd  with  the  penitential  sweetness  of  the 
Fsalms  of  David,  whose  ^-easive  strains  bring  solace  to  your 

•  John  xiv.  1-3. 


502  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

soul  in  its  hours  of  deepest  sadness.  Again  your  spirit  is 
ennobled  by  the  precepts  of  Jesus,  who  spake  as  never  man 
spake ;  and  your  whole  being  is  inspired  by  the  magnificent 
revelations  of  life  and  immortality  brought  to  light  in  the 
gospel. 

Here  is  food  alike  for  all,  —  for  the  peasant,  for  the  philoso- 
pher, for  the  dairyman's  untutored  daughter,  and  for  the 
profoundest  philosopher  who  ever  honored  humanity  by  his 
intellectual  achievements.  Indeed,  Christianity  carries  its 
own  evidence.  "If  any  man  will  do  his  will,"  says  Jesus, 
"  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine."  ^  And  again :  "  He  that 
believeth  on  the  Son  of  God  hath  the  witness  in  himself.^ 

It  is  true  that  any  child  c%n  ask  questions  which  no  philoso- 
pher can  answer.  The  infidel,  be  he  never  so  weak  in  mind 
and  shallow  in  attainments,  can  easily  present  difficulties 
which  no  philosopher  can  solve.  The  infidel  is  almost  in- 
variably a  self-conceited  man  of  "little  learning."  To  him 
the  remark  of  Lord  Bacon  is  applicable  :  "  A  little  learning 
tendeth  to  unbelief;  but  more  bringeth  us  back  to  religion." 

And  what  is  this  religion  of  Jesus,  which  is  ever  winning 
in  such  increasing  numbers  the  homage  of  human  hearts? 
What  are  those  principles  which  have  undermined  and  over- 
thrown the  proudest  systems  of  ancient  idolatry,  and  which 
seem  to  be  now  commanding  the  assent  of  every  honest 
mind  ? 

There  is  one  God,  existing  as  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost. 
He  is  the  common  Father  of  us  all ;  and  therefore  we  are 
bound  to  love  and  worship  him.  All  men  are  brothers,  of  what- 
ever race,  color,  or  condition :  as  kind  brothers,  they  should 
seek  to  promote  each  other's  welfare.  All  men  have  been  and 
are  sinners  :  they  should  therefore  repent,  implore  forpive- 
ness,  and  abandon  every  thing  which  an  enlightened  con- 
science teaches  to  be  vrror.g.  The  Son  of  God,  the  second 
person  in  tlie  Trinity,  assumed  humaa  nature,  and,  by  his 
sufferings  and  death,  made  atonement  for  sin.  Salvation  is 
now  freely  offered  to  aU  who  wiU  accept  that  Saviour,  and 

»  John  vU.  17.  »  John  t.  W. 


THE  CHUECH  IN  MODERN  TIMES.  503 

hoaastly  and  perseveringly  endeavor  to  return  to  a  holy  life. 
God's  desire  to  save  his  rebellious  children  is  so  strong,  that 
not  only  has  he  given  his  Son  to  die  for  us,  but  he  has  sent 
the  Holy  Spirit,  the  third  person  of  the  Trinity,  on  a  special 
embassage  to  plead  with  us,  that  we  may  return  to  him.  All 
who  yield  to  these  strivings  of  the  Spirit,  and,  with  penitence 
and  faith,  try  to  live  as  the  Son  of  God  by  example  and 
precept  has  taught  us,  will  be  received  to  heaven,  and  made 
etsriially  happy  there,  as  if  they  had  never  sinned.  All  those 
who  refuse  and  continue  in  rebellion  will  be  forever  excluded 
from  heaven,  and  will  be  imprisoned  with  the  Devil  and  hia 
angels,  where  their  wickedness  will  make  them  ever  wretched, 
but  where  they  can  no  longer  mar  the  happiness  of  those  who 
love  and  serve  God. 

Now,  these  are  the  fundamental  principles  of  Christianity, 
as  avowed  in  the  creeds  and  confessions  of  the  overwhelming 
majority  of  Christians,  of  all  languages  and  every  nami*. 
through  all  the  centuries.  How  simple  and  how  grand  ai 
these  principles  I  It  must  be  manifest  to  every  candid  mind, 
that  in  their  acceptance  is  to  be  found  the  only  hope  of  our 
;03t  world.  It  is  manifest  that  each  individual  can  here  only 
hope  for  any  permanent  happiness  in  this  life  or  in  that  which 
is  to  come.  In  this  wilderness  of  time,  in  the  midct  of  the 
2torms  with  which  we  are  driven  and  shattered  here,  there 
can  be  no  repose  for  the  soul  but  in  the  well-founded  convic- 
tion that  peace  is  made  with  God  through  penitence  for  sin, 
and  the  cordial  acceptance  of  salvation  through  the  atonement 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

One  fact  is  certain,  ■—  no  man  wiU  deny  it,  —  there  have 
been  hundreds  and  thousands,  who,  on  a  dying-bed,  have 
mourned  most  bitterly,  with  anguish  more  dreadful  than  words 
can  describe,  that  they  have  not  lived  in  accordance  with  the 
teachings  of  Christianity.  In  that  dread  hour,  gloom  impene- 
trable has  settled  down  upon  ihe  soul  as  the  dying  sinner  has 
exclaimed,  "  The  harvest  is  past ;  the  summer  is  ended  ;  and 
we  are  not  saved."  ^ 

«  Jer   vill    BO 


504  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Another  fact  is  equally  certain :  there  never  waa  sui  indi- 
vidual, who,  on  a  dying-bed,  regretted  that  he  had  repented 
of  sin,  accepted  Jesus  as  an  atoning  Saviour,  confessed  him 
before  men,  and  that  he  had  endeavored  to  live  the  life  of  the 
Christian.  There  cannot  be  found,  in  the  history  of  the  world, 
one  single  such  case.  On  the  contrary,  there  are  millions  — 
more  than  can  be  numbered  —  who  have  found,  in  the  hour  of 
death,  that  faith  in  Jesus  has  dispelled  all  gloom  from  the 
dying-chamber,  and  has  inspired  the  departing  soul  with  the 
most  triumphant  and  rapturous  joy.  It  is  the  Christian  aio,  e 
who  can  say  with  Paul,  when  upon  the  pillow  of  death,  — 

"  I  have  fought  a  good  fight ;  I  have  finished  my  course ; 
I  have  kept  the  faith.  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a 
crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  the  righteous  Judge, 
shall  eive  me  at  that  day ;  and  not  to  me  only,  but  ^FJito  skll 
them  also  that  love  his  appearing."  ^ 

1 1  Vm.  iT.  V,  S. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


THE   PRESENT    AND    FUTURE    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 


Christianitj-  Characteiizctl.— Territorial   Extension    of    Christianity.— Its   Numerical 

Status. Greek,    Roman     Catholic,    and     Protestant     Governments. — Growth     of 

Protestant  Denominations.— Relations  of  Christianity  to  Modern  Progress.- The 
Home  Life. — Woman. — Christianity  Sure  to  Triumph,  because  of  Increase  of  Mis. 
sionary  Effort;  because  it  is  Eminently  Humanitarian;  Harmonizes  Capital  and 
Labor;  Antagonizes  Tyranny  and  Monopoly ;  Removes  the  Causes  for  Social  Dis- 
order' Seeks  to  Extirpate  all  Evils,  and  Offers  the  Highest  Possible  Good  to  all  in 
this  Life,  and  in  the  Life  to  Come. 


LMOST  nineteen  centuries  have  passed  since 
'Christianity  was  established  in  the  world.  Its 
'founder  was  rejected  by  his  own  people  and  put 
'to  death.  It  was  not  wanted  by  the  nations.  It 
['was  foolishness  to  the  Greek,  and  a  stumbling 
'block  to  the  Jew.  It  commenced  among  the 
jhupiblest  and  the  poorest.  It  tvas  the  subject  of 
;icontempt  and  scorn  b}'  the  learned,  the  rich  and 
the  strong.  It  was  confronted  by  the  most  ma- 
lignant hate,  and  persecuted  with  the  most  implacable  fuiy. 
And  yet,  it  lived,  and  has  come  down  to  the  present  hour, 
and  to-da}'  bids  fair  to  subdue  all  nations.  Strengthened  bj' 
opposition,  purified  by  persecution,  intensifying  power  b}'  re- 
pression, it  is  the  sublimest  spectacle  that  presents  itself  for 
the  contemplaticn  and  study  of  mankind.  Christianity  is 
theoretical  and  practical.  The  theory  or  philosoph}-  of 
Christianity  is  found  in  the  sacred  scriptures,  its  practice  is 
exemplified  b}^  those  wlio  are  controlled  in  all  their  actions 
by  its  precepts  and  examples.  Christians  are  nominal  and 
experimental ;  the  former  are  those  who  are  enumerated  in 
the  census  "eports  of  Christendom  ;  the  latter  are  those  who 

505 


506  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

have  realized  in  their  own  souls  the  thought  and  purpose  of 
God  in  the  redemption  and  salvation  of  bumanity. 

The  territorial  extension  of  Christianit}'  is  onl}'  to  be  un- 
derstood by  comparison.  A  hundred  3'ears  ago  and  with  the 
exception  of  Europe,  the  smallest  of  the  continents,  and  a 
narrow  strip  on  the  Eastern  shore  of  North  America,  and  a 
few  scattered  centers  such  as  Mexico,  and  the  Spanish  and 
Portuguese,  and  a  few  other  settlements  in  South  America, 
and  other  portions  of  the  world,  all  the  nations  were  shut  up 
in  the  same  hopeless  and  helpless  condition  in  which  they 
had  been  for  centuries.  Fift}'  years  ago,  and  less,  and  the 
awakened  conscience  of  those  Christians  who  thought  of  the 
sad  condition  of  the  heathen  world  found  some  relief  in  the 
thought  that  many  countries  utterh'  refused  to  receive  the 
gospel.  But  this  fact  did  not  prevent  prayer,  and  so  the  cry 
went  up  to  God  that  he  would  open  the  doors  and  remove  the 
obstacles,  so  that  the  word  of  God  might  have  "free  course, 
run  and  be  glorified."  Those  praj-ers  of  faith  have  been  an- 
swered, and  now  there  is  no  nation  or  people  to  which  the 
gospel  may  not  be  sent.  All  hindrances  have  been  removed, 
and  every  island  and  continent,  every  country  the  wide  world 
round,  invites  the  coming  of  the  heralds  of  salvation.  No 
longer  do  the  people  of  God  pra}'  that  the  doors  to  heathen 
lands  may  be  open,  thej'  have  been  removed,  and  an  unob- 
structed entrance  is  found  to  every  land.  There  are  no  more 
"hermit  nations,"  the  mighty  power  of  God  has  swept  awaj^ 
all  obstructions,  and  all  are  neighbors — India,  China,  Japan, 
Corea,  Turke}',  Persia,  and  a  thousand  islands  of  the  sea,  and 
Spain,  and  Italy,  and  Africa,  from  Cape  Bon  to  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope,  and  Mexico,  and  all  of  South  America,  from  the 
Spanish  Main  to  the  Straits  of  Magellen  witness,  this  hour, 
the  triumphs  of  the  gospel  of  Christ.  In  all  of  them  the 
truth  is  freely  proclaimed,  and  Christianit}'  in  its  purity  is 
being  established.  Let  any  one  take  a  globe  upon  which  are 
represented  the  various  countries  into  which  its  surface  is  di- 
vided, and  it  will  at  once  be  seen  that  Christianity  has  well- 
nigh  covered  the  earth.  It  may  be  only  nominal  Christianit}', 


THE  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE.  507 

but  at  the  same  time  there  are  the  sj-mbols,  and  creeds,  and 
worship  in  which  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  stands 
high  above  every  other  name.  Bcjond  the  widest  oceans, 
far  up  into  the  iciest  seas,  across  highest  mountain  ranges, 
beyond  the  most  dreary  deserts,  the  aggressive  march  of 
Christianity  has  extended,  and  its  tenitorial  extension  is 
onl}-  limited  b}^  the  limits  of  the  planet  itself.  There  must 
be  in  such  an  expansive,  and  world-belting  system,  an  in- 
herent force  that  demonstrates  its  divinity,  and  prophesies  of 
still  grander  achievements. 

The  present  numerical  status  of  Christianit}-  is  well  worth 
our  careful  consideration.  The  three  great  divisions  of 
Christianit}'  now  existing  are  the  Protestant,  the  Roman 
Catholic,  and  the  Greek.  The  Greek  is  mosth'  confined  to 
Russia,  the  Roman  Catholic  and  Protestant  encircle  the 
world,  and  flourish  ever3where,  regardless  of  race,  or  lan- 
guage, or  climate.  In  the  first  view  we  take  of  the  number 
of  Christians  these  three  bodies  are  all  included.  The  won- 
derful progress  of  modern  times  in  material  matters  is  full}^ 
matched  by  the  progress  of  Christianity.  Careful  investiga- 
tions have  been  made,  which  enable  us  to  form  a  tolerably 
correct  idea  of  the  number  of  nominal  Christians  in  each  of 
the  centuries  of  the  present  era.  At  the  close  of  the  first 
centur}'  it  is  estimated  that  there  were  500,000  ;  at  the  close 
of  the  fifth  15,000,000  ;  at  the  close  of  the  tenth  50,000,000  ; 
at  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  100,000,000  ;  so  that  we  have 
the  figures  showing  the  number  of  Christians  in  the  several 
centuries  as  follows  . — 


D.  100, 

500,000 

500, 

15,000,000 

"   1000, 

50,000,000 

"   1500, 

100,000,000 

"   1600, 

125,000,000 

1700, 

155,000,000 

"   1800, 

1-00,000,000 

"   1840, 

300,000,000 

"■       1880, 

410,000.000 

*'   1885, 

460,000.000 

508  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  at  a  glance  that  the  progress  of  Chris- 
tianity is  one  of  the  grandest  incidents  of  human  history  ;  it 
is  most  wonderful  in  all  its  relations,  and  possibilities.  It  is 
to  be  especially  noticed  that  it  took  a  whole  millennium  to 
gain  50,000,000  ;  it  took  fifteen  hundr'ed  years  to  gain  100,- 
000,000,  but  in  the  last  eight3'-five  years,  the  lifetime  of  a 
man,  and  within  the  actual  memor}'  of  some  now  living, 
there  has  been  a  gain  of  at  least  260,000,000,  or  more  by 
60,000,000  than  in  all  the  eighteen  hundred  j'ears  preceding. 
Not  only  have  the  millions  of  Christendom  increased  with  an 
ever  multiplying  ratio,  as  has  just  been  shown,  but  there  has 
also  been  an  increase  in  the  number  of  those,  who  while  not 
Christians,  are  still  ruled  and  governed  by  Christian  nations. 
In  1757  the  British  conquest  of  India  practically- commenced. 
Now  the  non-Christian  nations  of  that  vast  peninsular  under 
English  rule  number  not  far  from  260,000,000.  In  other 
heathen  lands  the  government  of  Great  Britain  holds  sway 
over  man}' millions  of  people  who  are  not  Christians.  In  the 
year  1500,  as  we  have  seen,  there  were  100,000,000  under 
Cliristian  governments;  iu  1600  there  were  125,000,000  ;  in 
1700  there  were  155,000,000  ;  in  1885  the  number  is  estimated 
on  the  best  authorit}'  to  be  not  less  than  750,000,000,  or  just 
about  one-half  of  the  entire  population  of  the  globe.  John 
Wesley  was  born  in  June,  and  Jonathan  Edwards  iu  Octo- 
ber, 1703,  and  persons  are  now  living  who  were  alive  when 
John  Wesley  died,  so  that  a  portion  of  time  measured  by  two 
human  lives  is  all  we  are  called  upon  to  contemplate  in  this 
connection,  and  3'et  what  a  marvelous  growth  has  been  wit- 
nessed in  this  comparative!}-  short  space  of  time.  The  sim- 
ple fact  is  that  since  the  birth  of  Wesley  and  Edwards  the 
number  of  people  under  Christian  governments  has  increased 
until  now  it  is  very  nearl}'  five  times  as  great  as  it  was  then. 
In  round  numbers  it  may  be  said  that  the  subjects  of  Roman 
Catholic  governments  in  1700  amounted  to  90,000,000;  in 
1885  not  far  from  200,000,000,  a  little  more  than  doubling 
in  one  hundred  and  eighty-five  years  ;  the  subjects  of  Greek 
governments  in  1700  numbered  33,000,000,  in  1885  about 


THE  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE.  509 

100,000,000,  a  threefold  increase,  nearl\- ;  the  subjects  of 
Protestant  go,vernments  in  1700  were  about  32,000,000;  in 
1885  nearly  if  not  quite  450,000,000.  But  another  fact 
closely  related  to  this  array  of  statistics  is  that  Christendom, 
and  especially  the  Protestant  part  of  Christendom,  embraces 
the  dominant  nations  of  the  earth.  England,  the  German 
Empire,  and  the  United  States  are  Protestant  nations,  and  it 
is  true,  beyond  all  doubt  or  question,  that  they  are  the  most 
powerful  nations  now  existing.  The}'  are  especiall}-  power- 
ful in  the  possession  of  great  material  resources  ;  in  intel- 
lectual culture  and  force,  and  in  the  relative  positions  which 
they  occup}' — financiall}',  commerciall}-,  governmentally,  so- 
cially, they  hold  the  leadership  of  human  affairs.  London 
is,  as  it  has  been  for  a  hundred  jears,  the  metropolis  of  the 
world.  Paris  may  dictate  as  to  the  style  of  next  spring's 
hats,  bonnets,  coats  and  gowns,  but  London  controls  the 
marts  of  the  world.  London  rules  all  stock  exchanges  ;  de- 
termines all  values;  regulates  production,  distribution,  and 
consumption  ;  and  has  eas}',  natural,  legitimate  headship  in 
all  commercial  affairs.  Should  England,  German}',  and  the 
United  States  combine  the  rest  of  the  world  could  not  thwart 
or  hinder  the  execution  of  their  plans.  These  nations  are 
the  growth  of  the  most  recent  historical  times.  The  United 
States  was  born  only  a  hundred  jears  ago.  The  reformation 
found  England  but  a  rude  insular  power  just  beginning  to 
get  hold  of  the  elements  of  dominion.  Martin  Luther  lived 
long  before  Prussia  had  risen  to  the  dignity  of  a  kingdom,  to 
say  nothing  of  its  becoming  the  great  and  powerful  empire  it 
is  to- day.  Neither  of  these  nations  has  reached  a  period  of 
decrepitude  and  deca}-.  They  are  vigorous,  aggressive,  am- 
bitious. They  have  the  consciousness  of  power.  The}'  have 
the  inspiration  of  grand  ideas.  They  have  the  utmost  confi- 
dence in  themselves  and  in  their  destiny.  And  all  this  means 
that  the  next  forty  or  fifty  years  will  witness  greater  progress 
in  the  extension  of  the  territory  occupied  by  Christian  na- 
tions than  has  yet  been  seen,  and  it  means  that  the  propor- 
tion of  this  world's  population  governed  by  Christian  nations 


510  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

is  to  oe  largely  and  rapid!}'  increased.  We  ma}-  wonder,  and 
rejoice,  and  praise  God  for  such  magnificent  results,  but  no 
human  mind  can  possibly  comprehend  their  significance. 

It  is  of  interest  in  this  connection  to  note  the  increase  of 
some  of  the  leading  Protestant  denominations.  One  of  the 
youngest  of  these  is  Methodism.  It  is  not  yet  one  hundred 
and  fifty  years  since  the  organization  of  the  first  Methodist 
society  by  John  Wesley.  His  followers  are  now,  however, 
to  be  found  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  The  grand  totals  ac- 
cording to  the  latest  returns  of  this  vigorous  branch  of  the 
church  of  Christ  show  that  in  all  the  world  there  are  32,115 
itinerant  ministers,  77,879  local  preachers,  5,124,992  mem- 
bers, and  an  estimated  constituency  of  more  than  25,000,- 
000.  Though  equal  progress  might  not  be  shown  by  any 
other  denomination,  it  is  nevertheless  true  that  the  Baptists, 
Presbyterians,  Congregationalists,  Protestant  Episcopalians 
and  others  have  made  the  most  encouraging  advance  during 
the  last  half  century,  and  this  not  simply  in  the  United 
States  or  England,  but  the  fields  of  their  activities  have  been 
spread  all  over  the  world.  Furthermore  it  may  be  truthfully 
said  that  no  period  in  the  past  has  witnessed  a  more  aggres- 
sive spirit  than  that  which  now  characterizes  the  great  leading 
Protestant  churches,  and,  with  constantly  increasing  ability, 
there  is  no  reason  Avhy  the  successes  already  attained  should 
not  be  surpassed  in  the  immediate  future.  Surely  there  have 
been  immense  changes  since  Martin  Luther  felt  the  inspira- 
tion of  God  in  his  soul,  as  he  made  his  toilsome  progress  up 
the  Sancta  Scala  at  Rome,  when  the  words  of  truth  flashed 
through  his  soul,  "the  just  shall  live  by  faith."  He  was  one 
man  against  the  world,  one  man  against  the  ablest  hierachy 
that  ever  existed.  But  the  good  seed  sown  by  his  hand 
has  borne  abundant  fruit,  and  the  world  rejoices  in  his  life 
and  work.  So,  too  the  world  has  been  revolutionized  since 
John  Wesley  felt  his  heart  strangely  warmed  by  the  incom- 
ing of  the  love  of  God,  as  his  soul  patiently  waited  for  the 
divine  grace  of  pardon  and  peace.  The  spiritual  life  of 
Christendom  has   been   invigorated   and   intensified  by  his 


TEE  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE.  611 

word,  and  experience,  and  example,  and  will  be  more  and 
more  as  the  years  roll  on.  Surel}'  the  "little  one  has  become 
a  thousand,  the  small  one  a  strong  nation,"  and  the  promise 
is  fulfilled  :  "There  shall  be  a  handful  of  corn  in  the  earth 
upon  the  top  of  the  mountains  ;  the  fruit  tliereof  shall  shake 
like  Lebanon  ;  and  the\'  of  the  city  shall  flourish  like  grass 
of  the  earth." 

It  must  be  patent  to  every  careful  observer  that  Chris- 
tianity has  very  intimate  relations  with  every  phase  of  mod- 
ern progress.  The  relation  is  that  of  parent  and  child,  of 
cause  and  effect.  Christianit}',  even  when  debased  and  cor- 
rupt, was  still  the  conservator  and  promoter  of  the  higher 
forms  of  learning.  The  venerable  colleges  of  Cambridge 
and  Oxford,  and  others  of  greater  or  less  anti(|uity  in  Eu- 
rope were  founded  by  Christian  men,  and  ninety-nine  out  of 
every  hundred  institutions  that  have  been  located,  estab- 
lished and  organized  within  the  last  hundred  and  fift}'  years 
within  the  limits  of  Christendom  have  owed  their  exis- 
tence to  the  faith,  zeal  and  generosity  of  Christian  men. 
Nor  does  Christianity'  have  any  fear  of  the  discoveries  of 
science.  They  may  correct  and  illustrate  some  of  her  inter- 
pretations of  revealed  truth,  but  she  has  the  fullest  confi- 
dence that  the  foundations  upon  which  she  builds  can  never 
be  removed.  It  is  something  worth  remembeiing  that  no  es- 
tablished fact  of  science  has  ever  controverted  or  overthrown 
a  single  doctrine  of  Christianity.  Geolog}',  chemistry,  as- 
tronomy, biolog}-,  and  ethnology,  and  all  other  departments 
of  scientific  research,  have  left  the  truth  of  God  where  it  was 
a  luindred  or  a  thousand  years  ago.  The  Bible  record  is  still 
intact,  it  is  still  the  unmatched  and  the  unmatchable  book  of 
books  ;  the  gospel  still  appeals  to  the  hearts,  and  hopes,  and 
fears,  and  consciences  of  all  men  ;  the  apprehension  of  the 
fact  of  immortality  still  remains  with  every  soul ;  the  average 
common  sense  and  nnprejudiced  intelligence  of  the  people 
refuse  the  unproved  and  unprovable  hypotheses  of  the  evo- 
lutionists, and  still  trace  their  ancestr\'  back  to  the  man 
whom  God  made  in  his  own  image  and  likeness  ;  men  still 


512  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

feel  the  burden  of  sin  and  realize  the  need  of  salvation,  and 
recognize  the  fact  that  the  gospel  offers  a  scheme  of  mercy 
that  opens  the  door  of  hope  to  every  perishing  soul,  while 
it  honors  the  authority  of  God  and  upholds  the  sanctity  of 
his  government.  Moreover,  it  is  Christianity  that  is  ihe 
mother  of  invention.  The  old  proverb  is  not  true  that 
"necessity  is  the  mother  of  invention."  Christianitj-  edu- 
cates, trains,  quickens  the  intellect ;  it  teaches  man  that  he 
is  the  lord  of  this  world,  that  he  has  a  right  to  take  posses- 
sion of  and  utilize  all  that  it  contains  for  the  advancement 
of  the  race  ;  that  mind  is  alwaj's  superior  to  matter,  and 
should  compel  all  the  forces  of  nature  to  contribute  to  his 
highest  welfare.  So  it  is  seen  that  most  of  the  grand  inven- 
tions of  modern  times  are  the  product  of  Christian  nations. 
It  is  the  Christian  intellect  that  has  brought  into  subjection 
the  power  of  steam  and  electricit3\  The  wonderful  mechan- 
ical inventions  for  spinning  and  weaving,  for  sowing  and 
reaping,  for  transportation  and  communication,  inventions 
of  whatever  kind  that  minister  to  the  comfort,  and  con- 
venience, and  luxury  of  life,  that  uplift  and  ennoble  human- 
ity, have  been  brought  out  by  educated  minds  trained  under 
Christian  influences.  And  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that 
great  and  surprising  as  have  been  the  inventions  of  the  last 
fifty  years,  the  achievements  by  the  inventions  of  the  next 
fifty  years  will  altogether  surpass  all  that  has  already  been 
witnessed.  The  ultimate  possibilities  of  neither  mind  nor 
matter  have  as  3'et  been  attained.  Led  forth  and  inspired 
by  Christianity',  grander  and  still  grander  triumphs  await 
careful  and  painstaking  students. 

Christianity  has  especially  to  do  with  the  home  life,  and 
with  the  personal  welfare  of  the  individual.  There  are  more 
happy  homes  in  the  world  as  these  words  are  written  than 
were  ever  in  the  world  before,  and  these  homes  are  within 
the  limits  of  Christendom,  If  we  consider  the  question  of 
material  comfort,  we  shall  find  that  the  homes  in  Christian 
lands  far  surpass  those  of  the  non-Christian.  In  construction, 
and  in  all  outward  and  interior  appointments,  they  supply 


THE  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE.  513 

means  of  comfortable  living,  such  as  can  nowhere  else  be 
found.  The  most  ordinary  dwellings  of  the  people  of  Chris- 
tian countries  would  be  considered  fit  for  the  abodes  of  ro}'- 
alty  in  half  of  heathendom.  Not  half  the  high  chiefs  and 
kings  of  the  heathen  tribes  and  nations  are  as  well  housed  as 
the  common  people  of  Christian  countries.  They  may  be 
among  the  heathen  gorgeous  temples,  and  superb  palaces,  but 
these  are  the  rare  exceptions,  and  only  make  the  squalor  and 
misery  which  surround  them  all  the  more  apparent.  Nor 
will  there  be  any  marked  and  general  improvement  until  the 
power  of  the  gospel  shall  make  its  presence  felt  in  the  dark 
and  sluggish  souls  of  the  heathen  peoples. 

But  homes  are  more  than  houses,  though  well  built,  and 
possessing  every  comfort  and  convenience.  Homes  are  only 
attainable  where  hearts  meet  in  sympathy,  and  where  pure 
love  abounds,  where  the  ties  of  family  are  consecrated  and 
sanctified  by  the  spirit  which  prevails  throughout  the  gospel. 
In  such  homes  the  husband  and  wife  are  helpers  of  each 
other,  the  wife  is  not  simply  the  drudge  and  slave  of  man. 
The  wife  sits  in  a  place  of  equal  honor  at  the  table,  and 
does  not  wait  like  an  abject  menial  till  the  husband  finishes 
his  repast  before  she  ventures  to  taste  so  much  as  a  crumb. 
The  wife  and  husband  share  in  the  government  and  training 
of  the  children,  and  this  us  long  as  they  abide  under  the  pa- 
rental roof.  In  short  in  the  Christian  home  there  is  such  an 
equality  of  love  and  helpfulness  as  cannot,  by  any  possibili- 
ty, be  found  in  heathendom,  it  never  could  be  found  there, 
and  it  will  never  exist  thei-e,  for  the  simple  reason  that  in 
heathendom  might  makes  right,  and  man  being  the  stronger, 
woman  is  compelled  to  submit  to  brute  force,  tempered,  as  it 
sometimes  may  be,  by  a  sort  of  animal  affection.  It  is 
equally  apparent  that  the  condition  of  children  in  Christian 
homes  is  far  preferable  to  that  of  heathen  abodes.  In  the 
one  there  is  love,  and  tenderness,  and  care,  and  nurture  in 
all  that  is  excellent,  in  the  other  the  absence  of  these  ;  in  the 
one  there  is  the  rule  of  law  ordained  b3'  love,  and  adminis- 
tered with  the  purpose  of  securing  the  highest  permanent 


514  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

good  of  the  individual,  in  the  other  there  is  law  ordained  by 
whim  or  caprice,  and  administered  to  conduce  to  the  con- 
venience of  the  parent.  Childhood  in  Christendom  owes  an 
immeasurable  obligation  to  the  gospel ;  for  in  consequence  of 
its  spirit  and  precepts  life  in  youth  is  made  a  blessing  and  a 

joy- 

It  scarcely  needs  to  be  said,  and  j-et  is  one  of  the  facts 
that  some  are  inclined  to  overlook,  that  the  present  condition 
of  women  in  Christian  lands  is  far  more  honorable  and  influ- 
ential than  that  she  has  ever  occupied  in  the  past,  or  that  she 
now  occupies  in  heathen  lands.  Woman  owes  everything  to 
the  Bible  and  the  gospel.  From  Eve  in  Eden  to  Mary  on 
Calvary,  from  Eden  sinless  or  sinning  down  to  the  Cross  of 
Calvar}-,  woman  suffered  no  degradation  at  the  hands  of  man 
in  consequence  of  an}'  appointment  or  teaching  of  the  word 
of  God.  In  war  and  peace,  at  home  and  abroad,  married  or 
single,  in  all  possible  human  relations,  her  rights  and  privi- 
leges were  secured  by  divinely  given  legislation,  and  every 
limitation  that  was  ever  ordained  was  for  her  own  best 
comfort  and  advantages,  and  for  the  best  interests  of  poster- 
ity. Compare  the  condition  of  woman  to-da}'  in  Christian 
lands  with  what  it  is  in  heathen,  and  we  shall  see  the  out- 
come of  the  gospel.  Woman  in  Christian  lands  has  the  right 
to  her  own  person  ;  she  is  not  bought  and  sold,  nor  given 
away  without  her  knowledge  or  consent ;  she  has  rights  of 
property  and  inheritance  ;  she  has  the  protection  of  the  law 
to  the  fullest  extent ;  before  her  are  opening  on  every  hand 
new  avenues  of  enjoyment  and  usefulness,  and  there  are  few 
to  hinder  her  in  attempts  to  advance,  while  there  are  thou- 
sands to  encourage  ;  she  has  the  privilege  of  sharing  with 
man  the  advantages  of  education,  and  the  highest  walks  of 
learning  are  open  to  her  feel  if  she  cares  to  enter  them. 
Christianity  is  and  has  been  woman's  best  friend,  her  firmest 
defender,  and  her  most  helpful  guide  and  counsellor  ;  and 
well  may  Christianity  point  to  the  Christian  womanhood  of 
the  present  age  as  one  of  the  most  wonderful  and  precious 
trophies  of  the  gospel. 


THE  PRESENT  A  ND  FUTURE.  515 

Christianity  stands  to-day  on  vantage  ground  that  it  has 
gained  after  eighteen  centuries  of  ceaseless  toil  and  conflict. 
It  possesses  the  enthusiasm  of  victor}'  and  the  inspiration  of 
hope.  It  anticipates  larger  increase  and  a  more  rapid  ad- 
vance than  the  past  has  ever  vouchsafed.  It  is  sure  that 
since  the  battle  against  sin  has  gone  so  far,  and  been  pushed 
so  hard,  that  no  retreat  will  ever  be  sounded. 

"He  has  sounded  forth  the  trumpet  that  shall  never  call  retreat ; 
He  is  sifting  out  the  hearts  of  men  before  His  judgment  seat. 
Oh,  be  swift  my  soul  to  answer  Him  !  be  jubilant  ray  feet ! 
Our  God  is  marching." 

It  is  the  thought  of  Christianity  derived  from  the  contem- 
plation of  the  past,  and  from  the  promises  of  God  that  this 
world  in  all  its  length  and  breadth  is  to  be  subdued  to  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  There  may  be  much  opposition,  there 
may  be  temporary  revulsions,  but  the  outcome  is  certain.  If 
the  nations  withstand  and  repel  the  march  of  the  conquering 
hosts,  then  the  nations  must  be  overthrown ;  "then,  O 
Christ,  shalt  thou  break  them  with  a  rod  of  iron  ;  thou  shalt 
dash  them  in  pieces  like  a  potter's  vessel."  There  is,  there 
can  be  but  one  outcome,  the  heathen  of  all  lands  are  to  be- 
come the  possessed  inheritance  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  al- 
ready the  eye  of  faith  sees  "the  earth  filled  with  the  knowl- 
edge of  God,  even  as  the  waters  cover  the  face  of  the  great 
deep." 

But  these  visions  and  hopes  will  never  be  realized  without 
the  most  earnest  and  persistent  effort  on  the  part  of  Chris- 
tians. First  of  all,  then,  there  is  demanded  a  broader  horizon 
of  faith,  so  that  all  nations  and  kindred  and  tongues  shall 
be  included  in  the  sympathy  of  those  who  call  themselves 
disciples  of  Christ.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  imme- 
diate future  is  to  witness  grander  displays  of  missionary  zeal 
and  enterprise  than  the  world  has  ever  witnessed.  The 
evidences  of  success  which  are  continuall}'  multiplying  will 
lead  to  larger  consecration  of  wealth  and  talent  to  the  work 
of  spreading  the  gospel  into  all  lands.  The  many  millions 
of  China,  India,  and  Africa  are  destined  in  a  very  few  years 


516  EISTOBT  OF  CREISTIANITT. 

to  come  in  contact  with  the  missionaries  of  the  cross.  The 
light  of  the  Snn  of  Righteousness  will  soon  reach  the  abodes 
of  vast  multitudes  of  the  human  family  that  have  all  through 
the  centuries  been  overshadowed  with  the  impenetrable  clouds 
of  sin  and  superstition.  The  men  and  women  are  ready  to 
go  forth  to  evangelize  the  nations,  regardless  of  all  sacri- 
fices, careless  of  all  perils,  heroic  to  the  last  degree  amid  all 
privations  and  sufferings,  they  offer  themselves  for  any  work 
that  may  be  needed,  whether  in  the  tropics  or  the  polar 
circles.  It  is  an  encouragement  to  the  faith  of  the  timid, 
that  the  continent  of  Africa,  long  neglected,  is  now  the 
center  of  attraction  for  the  most  enterprising  nations  of 
Christendom.  It  is  being  explored  in  all  its  length  and 
breadth,  and  Ethiopia,  long  stretching  out  her  hands  for 
help,  is  now  having  brought  to  her  the  bread  of  life,  and  the 
glad  da}'  is  not  far  distant  when  the  gospel  will  be  preached 
to  all  her  many  millions.  In  all  directions  there  are  indica- 
tions that  we  are  just  on  the  eve  of  advancing  movements, 
such  as  the  world  has  never  seen,  but  such  as  the  church 
has  been  preparing  for  during  the  last  two  generations. 

Christianity  has  a  special  hold  upon  the  future,  from  the 
fact  that  it  is  the  grandest  humanitarian  agency  that  has  ever 
existed.  In  this  respect  it  far  surpasses  any  s^'stem  of  re- 
ligion in  ancient  or  modern  times.  It  cares  not  only  for 
souls,  and  concerns  itself  not  simply  with  the  things  eternal 
and  invisible,  it  has  to  do  with  the  bodies  of  men.  No  other 
religious  system  teaches,  as  does  Christianit}-,  that  the  human 
body  is  the  direct  product  of  divine  workmanship  ;  that  the 
human  body  may  become  the  consecrated  abode  of  the  in- 
dwelling Holy  Spirit;  that  the  human  body,  wrought  upon 
by  divine  skill  and  power,  may  be  transformed  and  glorified, 
the  mortal  becoming  the  immortal,  and  the  corruptible  chang- 
ing to  the  incorruptible.  The  very  fact  that  Christianity 
teaches  that  the  Divine  Logos  became  incarnate  in  human 
form,  emphatically  declares  the  importance  of  the  body.  And 
furthermore,  all  intellectual  and  spiritual  achievements  are 
more  or  less  dependent  upon  the  body,  so  that,  if  ever  hu- 


THE  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE.  517 

manity  shall  be  lifted  to  a  higher  plane,  and  grander  results 
be  realized  in  every  realm  of  being,  it  must  come  about 
through  the  agency  of  a  system  of  religion  which  is  broadly 
and  intelligently  humanitarian.  Besides,  it  must  be  dis- 
tinctly remembered  that  among  the  most  solemn  utterances 
of  Christ,  those  indeed  in  which  he  unfolds  the  methods  and 
principles  of  the  Divine  administration,  and  the  grounds  of 
final  rewards  and  retributions,  we  find  that  the  bodies  of 
men  are  most  intimately  related  to  moral  duties, — 

"Then  shall  the  righteous  answer  him,  saying,  Lord,  when 
saw  we  thee  an  hungered,  and  fed  thee  ?  or  thirsty  and  gave 
thee  drink?  When  saw  we  thee  a  stranger,  and  took  thee 
in?  or  naked,  and  clothed  thee?  Or  when  saw  we  thee  sick, 
or  in  prison,  and  came  unto  thee?  And  the  King  shall 
answer  and  say  unto  them,  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  inas- 
much as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  my 
brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me." 

And  strange  to  say  that  every  act  here  enumerated  has 
primaril}'  relation  to  the  bodies  of  men,  showing  most  con- 
clusively that  Christianity  is  indeed  a  pre-eminentl}'  human- 
itarian religion,  that  it  has  a  care  for  the  bodies  as  well  as 
the  souls  of  men.  For  this  reason  it  declares  itself  the  an- 
tagonist of  every  kind  of  personal  self-indulsence  that 
debases  the  body,  every  form  of  sin  against  the  phj'sical 
system,  every  namable  and  unnamable  vice  that  corrupts  the 
blood  and  entails  disease.  At  the  same  time  Christianity 
builds  hospitals  for  the  sick,  the  aged,  the  infirm,  for  im- 
beciles, for  idiots,  for  lunatics  ;  it  builds  almshouses,  houses 
of  refuge,  houses  of  reformation,  and  takes  special  care  of 
worn,  wasted,  wrecked  bodies.  And  this  work  will  continue 
to  enlarge  as  there  shall  be  demand  for  it,  while  at  the  same 
time,  the  Christianity  of  the  future  coming  to  understand 
the  principles  of  the  gospel  more  perfectly,  and  sympathizing 
more  fully  with  the  Great  Physician,  Jesus,  means  will  be 
devised  and  applied  which  will  secure  exemption  to  a  large 
degree  from  the  ills  which  now  afflict  the  bodies  of  men. 

In  securing  these  ends  so  much  to  be  desired,  Christianity 


518  HIS  TOR  Y  OF  CHRIS  TIA  NITY. 

will  have  something  to  sa}'  and  do  in  regard  to  erery  social 
problem  that  now  exists,  or  that  may  arise.  In  a  very  im- 
portant sense  the  material  activities  of  the  present  time  are 
represented  b}*  two  words,  Capital  and  Labor.  The  value 
of  each  depends  upon  moral  and  intellectual  control ;  wise 
adaptation  of  means  to  ends  ;  identity  of  interests  ;  and  per- 
fect harmonv  of  interaction.  Capital  and  labor  are  both 
essential  to  the  progress  of  humanit}'.  Degrade  and  debase 
labor,  and  brutality  is  the  result.  Make  the  possession  and 
utilization  of  capital  impossible,  and  social  chaos  will  ensue. 
Capital  is  the  accumulation  of  the  results  of  labor.  Labor 
is  the  divinely  ordained  method  for  securing  divinel}-  pr®- 
vided  supplies,  so  that  there  must  be  the  union  and  co-opera- 
tion of  capital  and  labor  in  order  to  secure  the  most  valuable 
results.  Neither  can  reall}'  thrive  alone.  Divorce  is  death. 
Christianit}'  can  combine  capital  and  labor,  develop  the 
uttermost  possibilities  of  each,  and  utilize  all  these  possi- 
bilities for  the  betterment  of  the  bodj-,  and  the  amelioration 
of  the  condition  of  the  toiling  and  suffering  masses.  Chris- 
tianity will  not  tolerate  monopolies  of  any  kind,  but  will 
demand,  and  will  enforce  compliance  with  the  detnand,  that 
all  accumulations  of  capital  shall  submit  to  direct  taxation 
for  the  public  good,  in  ever  increasing  ratio,  until  monopo- 
lies shall  be  virtually,  and  in  fact  absolutely  impossible ; 
and,  all  this  that  the  greatest  good  may  come  to  the  greatest 
number  ;  that  the  welfare  of  the  millions  shall  not  be  com- 
promised for  the  profit  and  emolument  of  the  hundreds  ;  that 
the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  real  brotherhood  of  all  men 
may  have  its  natural  and  legitimate  development. 

So,  too,  Christianity  in  the  immediate  future  will  concern 
itself  about  the  aggregate  social  interests  of  the  people. 
Socialism,  Communism,  and  Nihilism  are  simply  different 
names  for  the  same  anarchic  force  arrayed  against  the  exist- 
ing order  of  things.  This  force  is  the  protest  of  the  worm 
against  the  ruthless  foot  that  tramples  upon  it.  It  is  the 
product  of  tyranny,  despotism,  and  the  merciless,  reckless  use 
of  arbitrary  power.      It  is  indigenous  in  lands  where   the 


THE  PRESENT  A  ND  FUTURE.  519 

people  have  no  voice  in  the  ordering  of  government  and  the 
enactment  of  laws.  There  must  be  less  tyrann3'  on  the  part 
of  rulers,  or  less  intelligence  among  the  common  people,  or 
there  will  be  more  socialism.  If  rulers  will  sow  to  the  wind 
they  must  expect  the  whirlwind.  Every  tree  bears  its  own 
fruit.  There  is  positively  no  excuse,  or  reason,  or  apology 
for  socialism  in  a  free  country.  Where  majorities  rule, 
where  the  people  make  and  execute  their  own  laws,  socialism 
is  an  unspeakable  and  an  unendurable  outrage.  But  when 
Christianity  triumphs  tyrannies  will  be  abolished,  and  mo- 
nopolies will  be  done  away,  and  so  the  cause  and  excuse  of 
socialism  will  be  at  once  removed.  Socialists  and  all  kindred 
agitators  need  the  gospel,  and  not  grape  shot.  Give  them 
the  first,  and  there  will  be  no  occasion  for  the  second.  It  is 
the  recognized  and  imperative  duty  of  Christianity  to  give 
them  the  gospel,  and  this  dut}'  will  be  performed. 

No  really  thoughtful  person  can  doubt  that  the  most  ma- 
lignant foe  that  confronts  Christianity  is  the  drink  habit. 
The  traffic  in  drink  is  only  an  incident.  The  seller  and 
drinker  are  accessories  in  guilt.  The}'  tempt  each  other  to 
the  commission  of  the  most  nefarious  crimes.  Their  wicked- 
ness is  excuseless  to  the  last  degree.  They  are  conspirators 
against  the  peace  and  good  order  of  society.  The^-  multiply 
and  intensify  all  villainies.  The}'  are  the  enemies  of  all 
that  is  good  in  the  school,  the  family,  the  church,  the  com- 
munity. 

The  drink  habit  wastes  the  resources  of  Christendom ; 
weakens  and  beclouds  the  intellect ;  debauches  the  moral 
sentiment ;  brutalizes  thought ;  destroys  the  peace  of  un- 
numbered homes  ;  drives  all  joy  and  comfort  and  hope  out 
of  the  hearts  of  thousands  upon  thousands  of  helpless  women 
and  children,  inflicting  upon  them,  in  multitudes  of  cases, 
agonies  a  hundred-fold  worse  than  the  pains  of  dying  ;  and 
in  the  final  event,  each  year  of  its  dismal  existence,  plunges 
vast  throngs  of  wrecked  and  hopeless  souls  into  the  black, 
bottomless  depths  of  eternal  perdition.  The  wonder  of  won- 
ders is,  that  Christendom  long  since  had  not  combined  and 


520  HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

concentrated  all  forces,  instrumentalities,  and  agencies  at 
her  command,  and  hurled  them  all  with  resistless  fury  against 
this  relentless,  insatiable,  pitiless,  horrible,  soul-murdering, 
infernal  foe  of  God  and  man.  For  a  thousand  ^-ears  this 
direful  curse  has  stood  in  the  way  of  Christianity,  and  even 
DOW  its  presence  is  seen  in  every  land.  It  is  the  thing  which 
brings  reproach  and  shame  ;  blasting  and  blighting  follow  it 
everywhere  ;  it  is  the  great  and  insurmountable  obstacle  in 
the  pathway  of  the  Church  of  God  ;  it  is  defiant,  audacious, 
and  persistent ;  it  threatens  utter  destruction  to  every  holy 
enterprise,  and  shadows  the  whole  earth  with  the  wing  of 
death.  There  is  but  one  recourse  ;  there  must  be  a  union  of 
all  good  people,  and  Christianity  must  assume  the  duty  of 
leadership,  for  the  extirpation  of  this  evil.  This  is  the 
supreme  duty  which  rests  upon  Christianit}'  at  this  ver}'  hour, 
and  which  God  will  more  and  more  lay  upon  her  heart  and 
conscience,  until  the  da}'  shall  dawn  when  victor}'  eternal 
and  glorious  shall  crown  her  heroism,  devotion,  and  toil. 

Thus  Christianity  will  move  on  in  the  order  of  Divine 
Providence,  blessing  and  elevating  mankind.  It  will  lead 
in  every  reform,  and  takes  a  vital  interest  in  every  forward 
movement.  Whatever  social  problems  ma}'  be  presented 
we  may  be  sure  that  the  Christianity  of  the  future  will  give 
the  most  earnest  thought  to  their  wise  solution  and  adjust- 
ment. All  social  problems,  all  educational  problems,  all 
sanitary  problems,  all  problems  relating  to  personal,  moral 
purity,  all  problems  involving  the  rights  and  interests  of 
women  and  children,  will  come  within  the  purview  of  Chris- 
tianity. Theoretically,  all  this  and  more  is  to  be  found  in 
the  word  of  God,  and  especially  in  the  New  Testament, 
and  pre-eminently  in  the  teachings  of  the  Saviour.  And 
while  all  this  is  and  will  be  true,  it  will  still  remain  true  that 
Christianity  will  retain  all  its  oldtime  spiritual  fervor  and 
power.  While  it  is  ready  to  present  an  all-sufficient  remedy 
for  every  existing  evil,  it  will  also  present  the  most  ample 
provision  for  the  complete  satisfaction  of  every  real  need. 
There  can  be  no  legitimate  and  worthy  hope,  aspiration,  oi 


THE  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE.  521 

longing  in  any  deathless  spirit  that  may  not  attain  its  fullest 
realization  in  the  gracious  unfoldings  of  divine  mere}',  as 
revealed  in  Christ.  There  is  no  sorrow  nor  pain,  no  grief 
nor  agony,  that  ever  comes  to  any  soul  that  may  not  be 
completely  relieved  by  the  comfort  which  comes  through 
faith  in  the  Redeemer.  There  is  all  help,  and  grace,  and 
blessing,  and  victory  in  life  and  in  death,  and  after  death 
there  is  an  eternal  heaven,  "a  rest  which  remaineth  for  the 
people  of  God." 

Christianity  is  not  dying  out,  it  will  not  die.  Its  terri- 
torial extension  ;  its  multiplication  of  its  millions  ;  its  pos- 
session of  the  wealth  and  power  of  the  greatest  nations  of 
modern  times  ;  its  capacity  to  deal  with  the  most  difficult 
problems  of  the  age  ;  its  pronounced  antagonism  to  all  the 
evils  which  afflict  humanitj' ;  its  earnest  support  of  all  that 
promises  good  to  the  souls  and  bodies  of  men  ;  its  care  for 
the  weak,  the  helpless,  the  unfortunate,  the  outcast,  and  the 
downtrodden  ;  its  wonderful  power  to  soothe,  and  comfort, 
and  save  ;  its  gracious  helpfulness  in  lifting  wearj^  sin- 
burdened  souls  from  the  degradation  of  an  unholy  life  up  to 
the  perfection  and  purit}'^  and  sinlessness  of  those,  who  called 
to  be  saints  and  heirs  of  God  and  possessors  of  homes  in 
glory,  all  these  characteristics  of  Christianity  prove  most 
conclusively  that  it  is  to  be  the  religion  of  the  future  ;  that 
its  career  will  not  be  greatl}'  hindered  b}'  an}'  obstacles;  that 
its  march  of  conquest  will  encircle  the  world  ;  that  since  it 
is  adapted  to  the  needs  of  all  men  under  ever}'  possible  con- 
dition, it  must  become  at  length  the  universally  accepted 
and  prevalent  religion  of  all  mankin(i. 


DATE  DUE 

i^^^i^^^^,^/^ 

CAYLORO 

PRINTCO  INU.S.A. 

